Waste Not Want Not
by WorldInvent
Summary: It has been five years. I have learned to live without her; to put my kingdom first above all things. With her untimely return though, I find myself revisting old memories. Her condition deserves anyone's sympathy, but more could jeopardize everything.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's notes: you lot owe this one to too much Sweeny Todd and one too many episodes of Law and Order: SVU. Expect tones of drama, loads of angst, and of course a balance of good and evil. Cheers!_

**One**

_1_

"She was found to be tainted!"

Sarah felt her head resting against a cool surface. The sensation was welcoming. The cold helped to ease the fire that was raging inside her. The man's voice boomed causing a thud-like vibration on her forehead. The sound reverberated until she could hear the mad rhythm in her ears.

"I asked specifically to be brought into the company of a virgin," continued the man. His tone was beyond angry, near threatening. "She-!" He paused. Sarah felt a hand roughly seize her arm and pull her up right. The room spun. Were there people in long colorful robes? Were they angels? The man holding her squeezed her limb his fingers leaving deep impressions. She winced. "She is not a virgin!" he yelled.

Virgin. At the mention of that word Sarah became aware of an oddness between her legs. It was as if the heat that so burned her was radiating from her crotch. She ached there too. What had happened to her? Surely the events that had transpired were just remnants of a horrid nightmare. The man released his hold and she crumbled face up on to the cool floor.

From the crowd a man moved forward. As he hovered in and out of focus, she realized he was intently studying her. "Lord Edenberge," he addressed the man next to her. "Are you not accustomed to caring for what you claim?"

"I brought her here didn't I?" Edenberge replied dryly. "It's not as if I left her to fend for her self. Surely someone here has a need for a new mortal servant or can inform me on how to send her back."

Another voice interjected, "Did you give her any food or drink?"

"No."

The first man raised his right hand into the air. "It matters not," he said. "I shall take her."

It mattered very little to Sarah what happened to her at this point. If the humiliations were true, if what had happened to her was reality then there could really be no worse. Still though, she forced her eyes to focus on the man leaning over her. "Hello Sarah," he said before she was unconscious.

_2_

Outside the air was crisp and Chilly. Jareth observed the other court members as they dispersed. Some shot him quizzical glances- what would the Goblin King want with a mortal? Others smirked suggestively as if they were envious of his new acquisition. 'If you fools only knew,' he thought as he adjusted his black gloves over his fingers. His fellow fae had no idea what past relations he had had with this mortal.

Coming out behind him was Jewels his male servant. Cradled in his massive brown tinted arms was Sarah Williams. She looked all most doll like compared to his massive build. "Jewels," called Jareth. "Have Tokein help you to lay the girl in the carriage. We must hurry home now."

Inside the compartment seated across from her, he examined her condition. To say that Lord Edenberge had been harsh with would have been an understatement: her lower lip was swollen and her right eye was bruised. He inhaled deep breathing in any telling scents. Edenberge had known her sexually. Then why had the man been raving on about her virginity?

Leaning back he brought his hand to his mouth thoughtfully. 'What did you do Sarah Williams?' he mused. 'And how did you get involved with the likes of Lord William Edenberge?' Despite her injuries, the marks and cuts he could still perceive the beauty she naturally possessed. While Lord Edenberge may have denied her food or drink, five years ago she had tasted fae food. He, the king of the goblins had given the pretty mortal an enchanted piece of fruit. The fact that was once more she was in the Underground did not surprise him, but her means of arrival certainly did. 'Now, what to do with you?' he thought. 'In five years much has changed Sarah Williams.'

He glanced through the carriage window. The country side whipped past, the greener hills of the high lands giving way to the desert of his realm. The fine gold sand dusted the glass. The cloud came covering the carriage, transporting them instantaneously and safely through the Labyrinth. As the cloud dispersed he lowered his eyes: the voices were very curious. The Labyrinth wanted to know who he had brought with him.

Jewels was at the door the moment they came to a halt. Lifting Sarah he asked where he should take her. "Up to my chambers," he ordered heading inside. "And have the physician called for immediately. I shall join you momentarily." Inside he was met by his advisor Kastrel. He was just the man he was looking for. The stout little goblin held a tablet in his hand and appeared to be ready to inform his king of a new appointment or meeting. "Cancel all of my engagements for the day," Jareth instructed moving past him.

Kastrel sputtered following after him. "B-b-but sire today is the day in which the Wimberlys are seeking an audience."

The Wimberlys, a royal family interested in investing in the goblin kingdom. "Not today," he snapped.

"They bring their daughter sire," reminded Kastrel poignantly.

Jareth abruptly stopped. He needed the Wimberlys, but he also needed to see about Sarah. "Send my regrets," he explained. "If they arrive beforehand, then see to their needs and I will make an appearance as soon as possible. Make sure," he hastily added. "that Miss Leslie Wimberly is comfortable." He then left Kastrel and made towards his chambers.

Sarah was just regaining consciousness when he entered. His massive bed draped in white linens made her appear to be floating on a white cloud, in contrast though her battered face stood out in a clear picture. Having dismissed Jewels he approached the bed cautiously. Through slits she saw him and moaned. "Of course," she mumbled in disdain. "Just, just get whatever you want to do over with," she told him.

He cocked an eye brow. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Every fiber of her being was sore. She winced and closed her eyes again. "Yes, then I can die."

"Oh," he remarked. "And here I was considering healing you."

Her eyes opened. From this close proximity she could see his two toned pupils regarding her, indifferent and calm. "You've been waiting for this day," she bit out.

He knew he was goading her. If he was going to figure out what to do with her though, or understand what had happened… "And just what makes this day so special?"

"I've finally been broken."

His scoff surprised her. "Damaged," he corrected leaning closer over the edge of the bed. "Abused even, but hardly broken. You are going to live Sarah Williams," he assured her.

She looked apprehensive. Waving a hand she tried to dismiss his promise. The motion made her nauseous. "No, no I don't want to make any deals with you. You never do things for free."

"Sarah Williams you are in the Underground, the realm of the fae, so you have two choices: you can either let me heal you and you live, or I can dump you out in the middle of the desert where you can wander and die. Death on a soft silk bed is not part of the equation," he added as she shifted her weight.

"And if you… heal me… then what?"

"Oberon only knows what I'm going to do with you once I get you functional again, but I can assure you it's better than the alternative. Now here is my physician." A man, an elf, with long blonde hair appeared at his side. She squinted at him. "This is Bartholomew and he will see to your wounds." She was too weak to protest.

Bartholomew informed the king that the Wimberlys had indeed arrived and were waiting for him. With the king gone he drew his attention to the woman on the bed. She had been hit several times across her face and chest area. There was bruising on her knees as well. "My lady," he spoke softly as he produced a couple of instruments. "I don't know whether or not you can hear me, but I will inform you of everything I do." He held a pair of scissors. "I am going to have to cut what is left of your garment away." She spoke not a word, but laid there with her eyes closed. Having removed her top, he turned his attention to the rather short skirt she was wearing. As he lifted her hips to move the fabric she groaned quite loudly. He paused. "Does that hurt my lady?" he asked. With gentle pressure he placed one hand over her lower abdomen- her skin felt as if it were on fire. Risking hurting her again he again maneuvered the fabric away from her. Dried blood was smeared across her inner thigh. "The Seven Graces preserve us." He looked at her battered face. "You were raped."


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

Count and Countess Wimberly were of an old family that resided in a near by kingdom. They had rich land that thrived on agriculture, a commodity that Jareth's kingdom was in great need of. The desert sand of his land made it hard to sustain many crops, it was for this reason alone that he entertained the Wimberly' advances. Yes they were refined people, and yes their daughter was Leslie was appealing to the eye, but had there not have been a need he would not have bothered. 'Waste not, want not though,' he thought as he sat with them in the solarium drinking tea. He would have been a fool to ignore such promising circumstances.

Leslie was discussing with her mother the idea of a ball, a celebration to welcome the Winter Solstice. Admittedly he was only half listening. The last ball he had attended would have been… 'Well five years ago,' he thought. He remembered that night. Sarah had been young and radiate then. Leslie's hand was on his arm, he smiled at her. "Do say that you will host a ball Jareth?" she asked.

He looked at the woman sitting next to him. Her light brown hair was braided and twisted up into an intricate hairdo. She was an attractive woman. "How could I refuse?" he asked in return.

"Wonderful!" agreed her father. "In a month then our kingdoms shall join in the celebration!"

Her mother raised her tea cup and smiled cryptically. "To the joining of the kingdoms!" She sipped her drink. "Now, when it comes to decorating my Leslie will not fail you Jareth."

"My dear countess, do not so hastily brush aside my sense of fashion. I know how to throw a proper ball."

"But Jareth," exclaimed Leslie incredulously. "when have you ever thrown a ball?"

"It has been some years. But I should think that betwixt the two of us we shall throw a grand celebration. If the company will excuse me though," he said rising. "I do have other business to attend to today. I have made accommodations for you for the evening and the night. If there is anything you desire please don't hesitate to call for one of my servants. Lord Wimberly." He bowed. "Lady Wimberly. Miss Leslie." Having bowed a third time he left the room.

Alone in the hall he shook his shoulders and head. It mattered little what happened five years ago. In the here and now he had his kingdom to consider. As soon as Sarah Williams was well enough he would find her a situation in which she could earn a modest living and have her out of his home. 'Just how soon will she be well enough?' He turned to head towards his chambers.

Bartholomew placed the sponge back in the bowl. She was clean now at least. He had never performed a rape kit before, had always dreaded the possibility. In his bag were three vials two of which contained liquid- one blood, one a bodily fluid- and the other a hair that was obviously not the woman's. He sighed. He had considered the possibility that the woman had been a willing partner; considered until he had seen the bruising and vaginal tears. This woman had been forced into intercourse. Where had King Jareth found her?

When Jareth entered he saw Bartholomew whispering a sleep enchantment over Sarah's head. She at least looked comfortable now. "She will need your blessing to finish healing," Bartholomew informed him. "Sire," he paused approaching the subject delicately. "Where did this woman come from?"

"Why does that matter?" he asked still looking at the bed.

"I had to perform a rape kit on her."

That startled him. His eyes left the bed. "What?" he demanded. "Did she speak to you?"

"No, no. While in the process of removing her garments for examination she exhibited lower abdominal discomfort. I collected these." He produced the vials. "I'd wager that is semen," he added indicating the vial containing the near clear liquid. Jareth picked it up to examine the contents. "She has all the markings of having been forced."

Jareth lowered the vial, concern showing on his features. Well maybe he wouldn't kick her out immediately… He huffed. "How soon will she be able to talk?"

"Tomorrow at the earliest. Whoever it was also set into motion her changing."

"I can guarantee that we are dealing with two different instances."

"Sire, forgive my boldness, but am I to understand that you know who this woman is?"

Jareth handed the vial back. "I know a good deal about her Bartholomew. Yet it has been some time since I have seen her. Her current state surprises me. The Wimberlys are currently staying with us," he added. "Her presence should not be made known to them."

"Of course sire."

He looked at the bed again. "See to her every need. I shall return to her this evening."


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

Dinner with the Wimberly's passed with more conversation regarding the ball. The Countess and her daughter had already decided upon colors and a theme. The topic only proved to irritate Jareth. In his mind he saw Lord Edenberge, his awkward nose, thin lips, and pasty skin. Then he would see him self approaching the lord from behind, a mighty axe in hand. In one fell sweep Lord Edenberge's head would slide forward, flying away from his body. Blood would spray in a bright explosion of red fireworks, sending sparks out to land on his face and shirt.

By the third mental enactment, he shifted in his seat and sipped his wine. He could have handled the beatings, cleaned her up and dealt with her, but rape! 'No wonder she called her self broken,' he thought. Leslie mentioned something about masks. It drew his attention back to their conversation. She wanted a masked ball! He sipped from his wine glass again. Not that such events as masquerades were uncommon, hardly, but the timing was ironic.

"You ladies will excuse us," said the Count when the dishes were cleared. "But the king and I have business to discuss."

With a warm smile Leslie left the room following her mother. She glanced back to look questioningly at Jareth- will you spend time with me later? The look asked. He smiled and nodded in response.

"It is a fine thing to find such favor in your sight King Jareth," said the Count raising his wine glass.

Jareth extended a hand towards him. "It helps that the company is so agreeable."

"We would have paid you a visit sooner, but I had pressing business at home that needed attendance. Now Jareth let us speak frank with one another." His finger began to lazily trace the lip of his wine glass. "I am no fool and I feel confident enough to surmise that you are far from a fool as well."

Jareth nodded graciously.

The wine glass began to sing as the Count continued, "This wedding will serve both of us well. You shall have finer crops to feed your subjects-,"

"And you shall have the aid of my goblin warriors."

Here the Count paused both in speech and the caressing of the glass' lip. "It does not bother me that this isn't a union of love. Please, spare me any excuses," he briskly said when Jareth began to protest. After all he did enjoy Leslie's company. "you find my daughter attractive- sate your desires and bring forth a mighty heir. Surely you can have little objection to such an arrangement, eh?" He chuckled.

"Very little," he agreed dutifully. He finished off his wine. "I should think that the ladies are anxious for our company." Together the two men rose from the table and moved into the adjoining room.

Leslie encouraged him to leave the company of her parents. The night was too cold for a walk in the gardens, so he led her to a near by gallery. They walked in silence side by side. So many evenings had passed in the same manner: conversation, a little business, a walk with Leslie, and then all parting on the terms that they would meet again soon. This night though Jareth pondered what her father had said. It seemed all parties involved were of an accord- the kingdom must come first. "Jareth?" Leslie's voice gained his attention. "You do like me don't you?"

He smiled crookedly. "I am in your company alone without an escort- yes, Leslie, I like you."

"And do you-," She drew him towards a shadowed corner. "Do you find me attractive?"

In the dim light he saw her face eager for his response. "Yes my dear I find you attractive."

As if she could become any more flustered, her breathing notably quickened with his answer. "Then kiss me Jareth!" she exclaimed.

"What boldness is this?" he questioned holding her chin. His crooked grin melted into a smile.

"Convince me that there is at least a little more to us than business."

He heard her father's word in his mind. Did he have the patience to merely keep the peace? Bringing his arm around her waist he drew her close. "Then kiss you I shall, my pretty woman." And he pressed his lips to hers.

Kissing was an act that Jareth considered him self to be well versed in. He understood it as a sensual act; movement that gave and received. While he could not deny that having a young, firm female body pressed against his own was arousing, he could not say that he felt impassioned by the experience. He kissed her deeper pushing the boundaries of propriety. Leslie complied by sliding a hand into his hair.

'What is wrong with you?' Jareth argued with him self. 'You're a man, she's a woman… Get it together man!'

Gently he pulled out of the kiss. He couldn't perform with her, not Leslie the dear sweet innocent who was entrusting her future to him; not tonight at least. Conflicting images of a bloodied, beheaded Edenberge, a naked Sarah Williams in his bed, and Leslie's braids coming undone just made the task confusing. He kept his eyes closed a second longer. When he opened them he regarded the woman before him with a kind expression. "Your parents," he said. "are probably anxious over your whereabouts." Having drawn away he offered her his arm. "My lady?"

After returning her to her parents and having said goodnight, he went up to his chambers. His physician was slumped over in a chair- he woke him and sent him back to his own room. On the bed lay Sarah eyes closed, covered with the white sheet. Bartholomew's care was evident- several of her bruises were fading and her hair was smoothed. It helped that she was all ready half changed, half fae. If he were to give his blessing tonight then she would be healed in less than a day. He wondered if she knew about her change.

He climbed on the bed next to her, moving slowly so as not to disturb her sleep. As he adjusted his position the sheet shifted: she was naked. Her left breast was fully exposed to him. Five years ago he would have welcomed such a sight, and hardly anything would have halted him from touching her. He realized suddenly that he was staring at her. 'One moment you're struggling to perform, the next you're a gawking pervert,' he thought rolling his eyes. 'By Oberon, she is still a beauty.' Leaning near he whispered, "Heal Sarah Williams." He allowed him self one last look at her. "Heal and live." He pulled the sheet over her chest.

In the middle of the night she awoke once whimpering and kicking at the covers. It startled him out his sleep. Sitting up he realized she was dreaming, fighting at some invisible demon. The sheet flew away from her and she sat up as well, her eyes open, but not focusing. "No!" she screamed into the night.

He put a hand on her shoulder to guide her back to a lying position. She swung at him though and yelled again. "Sarah!" he called. When she raised her fist again he caught her and twisted her arm back. Using his other hand he held her body against his. "Sarah, you are safe! Sarah," he called again.

She screamed as if in pain. "No, no, no!" she yelled thrashing against him.

Her screams were going to wake the whole household. Holding her arms he used his weight to force her over, pinning her against the mattress. "Sarah." She lay still, trembling and crying. He loosened his hold. Instead of fighting him, she huddled her self against his chest.

They lay there, the bed in disarray. He dared not move to cover her again fearful of another out burst. The trembling subsided and she slept. Relaxing his hold, Jareth swore quietly into the night. He was going to kill Lord Edenberge. How dare another fae behave so debased, so foully with a woman? The horror she endured he could only remotely begin to comprehend. Yes, Lord Edenberge was as good as dead.


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

**_1_**

Sarah had come to terms with the fact that she had been beaten and raped. It had happened. The details of how she had gone from the college grounds to the foreign bedroom were still hazy, but she believed the events to be real. There had been a man involved… or had there been two or three? Half asleep she furrowed her brow. This last night though, the odd surreal sleeping arrangement had to be a dream. He would never treat her so gentlemanly or be so accommodating. He hated her. He was a spoiled brat.

She was sure of these sentiments.

At least the bed she found her self in was comfortable. The sheets smelt of cloves and were so soft against her skin. 'My bare skin,' she realized. Slowly she opened her eyes. Finding her self confronted with the upper chest male anatomy immediately made her reconsider her mental state. Then she became aware that an arm was around her shoulders. 'Holy-!' Her brain was reeling unable to even properly curse under the circumstances. Carefully raising her self she saw him: Jareth the Goblin King sleeping with his arms around her.

Having maneuvered away from him she scrambled off of the bed in a panic. How could this be real? There had been a massive room filled with people in long robes. Confused she held her head. He had been there. He had taken her. But there had been someone else too. An elf who could have been a character right out of a J. R. R. Tolkien novel. Bartholomew! What had he done with her clothes?

The room had two doors- one had to be a closet or at the least a bathroom. Jareth stirred in his sleep. Quietly she moved to the nearest door. It proved to be a bathroom slash toilet. One part sectioned off for clothing, the other a bath area. Having closed the door she went for the clothes. Once dressed, she could figure out a way to escape. There was no way she was going to wait to learn what sort of cruel mind game his highness had in mind to play.

She caught sight of her self in a mirror: she should have looked worse. Only the slightest out line of a bruise around her eye remained. She dropped the shirt she had grabbed hold of. Not a single cut or abrasion marred her skin. No her skin was near perfect. The fever, which had burned her so, was even gone. No matter the skill of the physician, this sort of healing was humanly impossible.

Jareth had healed her.

Absently her fingers touched her skin on her left side just under her breast. Vaguely she remembered being scratched. There had been a frenzy of hand movements. Her rapist had clawed at her clothing and left marks on her skin. Nothing remained there, just the haunting memory.

She picked up the shirt again and pulled it over her head. She should at least wait to talk to him, to see what he wanted, or at least thank him. Her body covered, she opened the door and peered into the bedroom: he was lying still. Moving cautiously she approached the bed. It had been five years since she had seen him- did he look the same? Had he aged at all? His shaggy blonde hair was definitely longer. He was still that creamy pale color though that leant him a near angelic appeal. She leaned forward to better see his face.

_**2**_

When he felt her quit the bed, Jareth thought it best to let her be. After all of the trauma she had suffered and then waking to find them in bed together, no doubt would lead to defensiveness. He didn't need her screaming again. He prayed to the Seven Graces that the Wimberly's had not heard her hysterics during the night. Explaining Sarah was going to take some devising, but that sort of scheming would hardly be beneficial before breakfast.

Lazily he rolled over meeting the warmth of the place she had laid. She had felt so soft against him. The opportunity to protect her had rendered in him a sort of satisfaction that was new. He liked it. Feeling a presence near, he opened his eyes: Sarah was leaning over him studying him. Upon seeming him awake she started away mumbling an apology and then, "Good morning."

Apparently she had done some snooping for her nakedness was covered by one of his shirts. The wide collar did little more than hide her breasts and the long sleeves drooped over her hands. The ruffled cuffs she picked at not meeting his gaze. Her appearance was so alluring in its simplicity that he had to remind himself that not more than twenty-four hours ago she had been a bloodied, crumpled mess. Sitting up he returned her greeting. "I do hope the morning finds you… better?" he then asked.

"Yes." A pause in which he was sure several stitches had been broken on the cuff of his shirt. "Thank you," she added.

"You are welcome. I was not in favor of you dying."

"Why not?" she asked briskly.

There in was the ultimate question: why? He had been making due just fine without her. "I must admit my curiosity generally over rules any other inclinations." He leaned forward on his knees. "Just what had Sarah Williams done to be discovered in such a state? I wanted to know."

Awkwardly her eyes flickered to him and away again. "It was stupid. So now what?"

"Well, I am going to bathe before breakfast." Turning he moved aside the covers. He saw her flinch. She was so tense. With a sigh he moved through to the wash room.

Several of his servants quickly appeared and began to draw his bath. The tub was situated behind a partition. As he gathered together a few bathing needs he realized that Sarah lingered at the door. She seemed so unsure of her self. 'Lost,' he thought moving around the partition. "No the lady will not be joining me," he informed an inquisitive servant. Having sent them away he stripped and climbed into the tub. "Sarah!" he called out. "Come near and talk to me." He heard her feet hesitate. "As close as you are comfortable." Having reached for his sponge he added, "Though I am sure that I'm not the first naked man you've seen."

She leaned against the opposite side of the wall. "And I am sure I'm not your first naked woman."

He smirked. "Quite so. Well now that there aren't any misgivings over matters of virginity, then tell me Sarah what happened?"

He heard her sigh long and weary. "Why do you care?"

"Sate my curiosity. Did you know you were becoming involved with a fae?" he pressed.

"Yeah, I knew. I knew before he revealed him self."

He worked the sponge vigorously over his arms. "And did you lie about your virginity to him?"

"See that's where things get muddled." She began to pace. "He knew! Oh yes, he knew. But then what got said when you found me… it's all most as if there were two men."

The water sloshed in his surprise.

"But then again, maybe not," she added.

He rinsed and got out of the water. Perhaps it would be better to just inform her that he knew her tormentor, Lord Edenberge. If he offered to work on her behalf, to gain her vengeance or retribution, would she accept? He pulled on a robe. As he tied it he rounded the partition to find her leaning against the wall. "What if I told you I knew who did this to you?" he asked her. She said nothing. "I would seek retribution for your honor Sarah."

She shook her head. "How Jareth- by beating him up? By having him raped?"

"I was considering something far simpler like slitting his throat."

"No. Besides it's not your battle. And it wasn't entirely his fault," she added.

"Sarah Williams!" he exclaimed putting his hands to his hips. "Were you or were you not forced?"

"Yes, but-," She stopped, pressing the sides of her head in frustration. "It's not that simple. Like I told you before, things are a bit muddled! What if there were two men involved? What if you hurt the wrong one? No, Jareth, I can't allow you to do that."

He was about to argue with her when one of his servants appeared at the door. The Wimberly's were gathered and waiting to eat with him. He huffed. "Fine. See here Sarah, I have company with me. For the duration of the day you will have to remain scarce." He went to his wardrobe. "I shall send one of my female servants, Meep, up to see to your needs and entertain you." Quickly he pulled an outfit together. "About your situation though, we are not finished discussing it."

"If anything, I see your stubbornness is still intact after five years," she exclaimed.

"Likewise," he retorted. "What sort of king would I be if I overlooked such debase activities?"

"It didn't happen on your turf."

"Regardless." He came out adjusting a jacket. "I still intend to do the right thing."

The servant who had appeared lingered. He cleared his throat, "Miss Wimberly begs you wear her color." He produced a yellow rose.

Jareth was sure he saw Sarah raise her eye brows in surprise. "Thank you Blot. That will do." He took the flower and worked it through a hole on his lapel. "Until later Sarah." He left her standing dumbfounded.


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

_1_

When Meep arrived Sarah was still standing in the bathroom biting at a finger nail. The little red haired goblin paused at the door and scratched her head. The king had one woman down stairs and another up stairs- not that it was any of her business, but it just didn't seem proper. Still she had her orders- keep the girl Sarah Williams out of sight and occupied until the king came for her. "'ello miss!" she greeted walking in.

"Eh?"

Startled Sarah came out of her thoughts to find a red haired goblin entering the bathroom. What had happened right before Jareth left the room kept playing over and over inside her head: a woman was requesting that he wear a certain colored flower. That she had not expected. Of course what exactly had she expected? Five years ago they parted ways on abrupt, uneasy, dissatisfied, unfriendly terms. Just because she still thought about him, didn't mean he also had thought about her.

Still though, for him to be showing any sort of interest in another woman meant something. For one she had to be one heck of a handful. Jareth liked challenges. Of course she also to be a patient woman, someone who was willing to play his games. 'A beautiful woman,' she thought shifting weight between her feet. 'No doubt with some sort of royal blood in her veins. It also means he's over you, Sarah.'

A memory came alive at that instant. She saw herself in a skirt and black top standing next to a couch. The man was there smiling fondly at her. She knew he was fae; it was almost as if she could smell him. The scent was welcoming for she had missed it. The smell, a wild fragrance that reminded her trees and old books cloves and cinnamon, made her think of Jareth. This man was the closest to him she had come in several years.

'Not entirely his fault,' she thought again. Part of her had wanted it simply because it had reminded her of Jareth. But had she gone through with it? The memory skipped and went fuzzy like a bad VHS tape.

She forced a smile and said hello to the goblin. "I'm Sarah."

"And I'm Meep. King says I'm to take care of you today. Are you hungry at all?"

She realized there was gnawing sensation in the pit of her stomach. "Actually yes, I am."

"Alright then, let's get you into a proper dress and then we'll head down to the kitchen. In here miss."

Back in the bedroom a dress was laid out on the bed. It was a lovely shade of burgundy with some simple gold detailing. Once changed Meep led her out into the hall, through a series of passages, down a stair cases, and once through another set of doors they reached the kitchen. The castle was still in mild chaos, just as she remembered it. She wondered to her self if this woman, this Miss Wimberly handled goblins well? Or were there plans to instate a cleaning crew and for the servants to wear uniforms? By the time they reached the kitchen she felt a tad strained and needed to sit down.

_2_

Never before had the Wimberly's tried his patience as they did this morning. Again the only plausible topic seemed to be this ridiculous masked ball that Leslie had convinced him to do. She sat next to him, her braided hair strategically adorned with yellow roses. Her voice was in a constant state of excitement. She held onto his arm more so than usual. 'Why did I kiss her?' he thought miserably.

Some where among the servants was Sarah. Just what had she been about this morning suggesting that her rapist wasn't entirely accountable? Had he not gone to court that day; had he just stayed at home then his life would have remained simple. 'Of course had you never answered her wish,' he thought and then quietly chuckled.

Leslie was leaning near. "Why Jareth what do you find so amusing?" she asked.

"Sorry my dear, distracted by my own thoughts. What now?"

"I was just telling mother that we must employ some elves for the ball. Elves make such wonderful servants."

"And just what is wrong with my own dear subjects?" he demanded dryly.

Leslie opened her mouth and then hesitated, looking towards the countess. "Jareth my dear," began Countess Wimberly. "Can you honestly guarantee that your subjects will behave at such a socialite event?"

He slumped back in his chair. "The king of the goblins being denied use of his own subjects- I'll be a laughing stalk!"

"There, there now, it would only be for the ball," explained Leslie holding onto his arm. "I do so want it to be a special occasion." She smiled.

He just stared incredulously at her.

_3_

"So just who is Miss Wimberly?" asked Sarah.

In the kitchen the goblin cook Weech had prepared scrambled eggs and toast. Several servants were about eating as Sarah sat down at the table. Everyone greeted her with toothy grins; some even raised their cups towards her as if in recognition. As she served her Weech commented, "You've got a true woman's body, no doubt made with a true appetite! Not a fickle court woman here!" With a rough slap to her shoulder she sat down her plate and eased her massive body into the seat next to her. "Need to rest m'bones for a bit. Eh now Fash," she said getting the attention of a goblin across from her that was wearing a pair of spectacles. "You've got the Wimberly's clothes in order?"

"Yes, yes," he replied making a tiny adjustment to his spectacles. "Though I hated to part with Miss Wimberly's gown- what a divine piece of clothing it was!" Here he grasped his hands in a form of rapture.

It was at this moment that Sarah asked her question, "So just who is Miss Wimberly?" Several of the goblins present shook their heads in frustration, while others made disapproving sounds. "Your king seems to approve of her," she commented sipping her tea.

Fash spoke up, "She is a beautiful woman, a lady of honor, and we abide by the king's desires…"

She sensed a hesitation. "But?" she pressed.

Weech snorted. "But she's a right nuisance," she said poignantly.

"Now, now Weech!" chided a man's voice. The group looked towards the door to see Bartholomew entering. "Good morning everyone!" he greeted them with a wide smile, adding to Sarah, "Good morning my lady."

"Don't bust my hump about the Wimberly's!" Weech snapped standing from the table. Her massive body jolted the table nearly spilling everyone's drink. "If she eats at the king's table she gets the same brown gravy he does! Her sending a message down here this morning asking for a special dish, what with not having any allergies or digestive problems- spoiled she is!"

"And she has the attention of our king," countered Bartholomew. He nodded at Sarah. "We are giving our new comer a very bleak out look on King Jareth's company."

Sarah shrugged. "I did ask after her."

Bartholomew poured himself a cup of coffee. "Far important then the Wimberly's- how are you fairing this morning?"

"Um, much better. I'm a little sore still, but it's manageable."

"I have all ready breakfasted, so when you are done have Meep bring you round to my quarters, I should like to make sure things are healing properly and discuss some finer details with you." She nodded and he was away.

Bartholomew's quarters consisted of an examining room and a pantry filled with all sorts of herbs and tinctures. The atmosphere reminded Sarah of a naturalist she had gone to see over eczema she had developed her senior year of high school. It was comforting to find that there were sights and smells that pleased her senses. It made the prospects of her new life more manageable, for whatever happened she knew from this day forward she was going to be a citizen of the Underground. She owed a life debt to a fae king. She breathed deep letting the scents ground her and keep her calm while Bartholomew examined her.

He made a positive sound and said "good, good" as he finished. Having washed his hands he took a seat in front of her. "You are healing very well. Your body responded to the treatment and healing spells that were used. But now we must discuss a finer detail."

She braced her self for whatever it could be. He looked so serious. With a nod she told him to continue.

"I am not ignorant of the way your human world operates. Because of the way our kingdom is set up, I have a lot of experience with human children."

What was he getting at? Had she contracted some horrid STD? She nodded again. "Right."

Bartholomew pushed back his hair. "Your attacker did not use any form of protection. There is a chance of pregnancy."

Pregnancy. The word sounded foreign in her ears; foreign and dirty. She stared blankly at the physician unaware that she looked pale and appeared ready to pass out. Her breath caught and she let out a high pitched gasp.

"Sarah?" He stood ready to catch her if she fainted.

"Oh, oh!" was all she could say. Tears sprung to her eyes. "Oh…how long before I know?"

"When was your last cycle?"

"About three weeks ago."

"Then we should be able to determine more in about a week. There is something else." Gently he put a hand to her shoulder. "You are no longer human, you are turning fae."

He looked even more concern when she started to laugh. She wiped at her cheeks which were streaming with tears. Turning fae- the phrase made perfect sense to her. "I knew it!" she exclaimed. "No wonder I have felt so out of place these past five years!"

"Perhaps you should lay down-,"

"No, no! I'm fine. Really," she assured him. "I just don't know what emotion to feel: anger, shame, or joy!" She laughed again all the while still crying. "You look very puzzled my dear physician. Has the king not informed you of who I am?"

He shook his head.

Her face grew serious, she stopped laughing. "I am Sarah Williams. Five years ago I won back the wished away child!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Six**

By the time the Wimberly's prepared to leave late in the afternoon Jareth was beginning to question his judgment. He had been living a quiet, complacent, simple life; he had taken a degree of pleasure in escorting such an attractive woman about; and had considered him self to be a shrewd business man. His life and kingdom were on track. And today he realized that he was bored out of his senses.

Their carriage appeared and the family came out. He noticed that Leslie had split the left side of her lip. She had only been out of his sight long enough to gather her few belongings. He asked if she was all right. "Fine," she said with a smile. "I tripped over one of my bags." Having helped her into the carriage, he bid them farewell.

Lingering outside he considered his position. Five years ago he had his world turned up side down partly by his own hand and partly by Sarah Williams'. He had enjoyed every moment of those thirteen hours. She challenged him, taunted him, and (probably unwittingly) had flirted with him. They had battled it out one maneuver after another, in a dance of wills. He had felt alive!

Yet his kingdom had suffered. While one half of his subjects accelerated in their desire to play his games, a smaller portion banded together to revolt. After she left the Labyrinth her self acted out, with holding nourishment and resources. That first year after her departure he tried everything to reason with the life force of the Labyrinth, but the voices refused to cooperate. Shortly after that he began entertaining the company of the Wimberly's.

Absently he kicked at a small stone and went inside. Up stairs he headed for his personal study, the one room in the castle that still held memories of his life five years ago. Trinkets, pictures, a juke box- a few human items that brought him comfort. He was not surprised to find Sarah there. She stood looking at the old record player. She smiled at him. "This," she pointed at the machine. "This is something I never imagined you having."

"Well goblins aren't known for being musically inclined, and I enjoy listening to a decent piece of music. Here." He punched a button and the juke box glowed alive with color. He watched as she began to flip through the selections.

"In my senior year of high school," she said. "I read a graphic novel called 'V For Vendetta.' The lead character, V who was some how both the protagonist and antagonist had a juke box." The selections flipped by- Billie Holiday, Frank Sinatra, Etta James. "He would turn it on of an evening and he would dance with the story's leading lady. Even in their world the juke box was out of place." Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole. "I thought about what you said this morning," she continued. She stopped searching through the selections. "I want vengeance."

He examined her face in the pale colors. "What made you change your mind?"

"I spoke with Bartholomew today. The evil mother didn't use protection. Screwing with my life is one thing; screwing around with an innocent child's is another."

Reaching out he punched a series of buttons. The mechanical arm swung out and pulled forth a record. Etta James' voice began to fill the room. He held his hand out to her. There in his study he danced with her, knowing full well that he was treading along a thin line. But dancing with Sarah was so addictive.

When she put her head against his chest, she smelt his scent. For five years she had chased after this elusive smell matching the equally elusive man. Her professor had been the closest match. Her first day of class she knew what he was. And when he smiled at her, she knew she had to spend as much time near him as possible. But that night, that night something had gone wrong.

She realized she was crying against Jareth. They had stopped dancing and he was holding her. She held onto him. After five years she really did not want to let him go.


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven**

Two nights passed during which Sarah stayed in his room. Whether he had kept her near purposefully or not was lost on him. The first of the two nights he awoke to her crying again, struggling with a dream. She nearly knocked him backwards off of the bed when he attempted to subdue her. But then she held onto him, calming and falling asleep again. He lay there wondering what she saw in her dreams.

The second night he awoke to find her moving to his side. His first reaction was to raise his arms in defense. She said nothing though, but curled her body next to his and put her head on his chest. Gingerly he put his arms around her. He could smell her hair- it vaguely reminded him of lavenders. It was a comforting scent. Miss Leslie Wimberly never smelt so familiar yet enticing. His eyes drooped and he slept.

In the morning she was up before him. He could hear the water running in the other room and then her laughing at something. His first thought was to get up and join her; maybe take nice bath together. When his sleepy brain caught up with his thoughts his eyes shot open and then he shook his head. He had no right to think about taking baths with Sarah.

He heard her laugh again.

Quietly he moved from the bed to the door of the wash room. The door was ajar, giving him a narrow view. Her back was to him, her hair pinned up in a loose bun. She had a straight, defined line to her back. Her arms arched and he saw the curve of her shoulder blades the moment before her hair came tumbling down. Her hair swayed like tall grass in the wind. Then she turned side ways. The outline of her breasts and stomach was stunning.

Jareth realized he was absolutely transfixed by her nakedness. She didn't need a corset to cinch her waist or raise her breasts; or any frills to catch the eye. Sarah was beautiful. He watched her move, tracing the lines of her body with his eyes; knowing that someone had attempted to mare, to destroy her body, angered him. Her body was meant for a soft touch, for a lover's caress. When he heard the voice of Meep and saw that the servant was there to help her dress, he blinked and darted away from the door.

Sarah Williams needed her own quarters, and promptly. More importantly, she also needed retribution. "Sarah!" he called out casually. "Are you decent?"

"Yes," she answered.

Coming in he saw her dressed. It was hard to not visualize her without her clothes on. "Sarah you and I need to discuss some business today. Meep would you show Sarah to my study and have breakfast brought up? I shall join you after my bath." In the hot water it was even harder not to visualize a naked Sarah.

Once dried off and dressed, he squared his shoulders and headed for his study. He was surprised to hear laughter coming from the room. Inside he found Sarah being amused by several of his subjects. Three goblins had constructed a living pyramid with a chicken perched on top. "Tah-dah!" they exclaimed just as he walked in. Sarah clapped and praised them. 'So at ease,' he thought to him self observing. 'Maybe not quite so lost any more.'

"Hello King!"

Upon closer inspection he realized that Meep was holding the chicken. "Good morning. I see you've been practicing."

One of the two goblins at the base spoke up, "We're thinking of adding another chicken soon."

"You will definitely have to show me that," said Sarah.

Jareth clapped his hands. "All right lads and lasses- take a bow and be off with you!"

The pyramid tumbled and the three goblins bowed and left.

"They're wonderful you know," she commented.

"Indeed. Please Sarah come and sit." A food tray had bee set out on a low table in front of a couch. He served her breakfast. "Now, we must have a serious discussion about your vengeance. I know the man that brought you into the court room, and I am fairly certain that he was your attacker. Yet," he handed her a plate. "You seem to think that there were two men involved. Do you still think that?"

"Yes, I do." She grew quiet and still.

"You remember more don't you?"

She nodded.

"Talk to me Sarah- help me, to help you."

Her face grew serious and her eyes went distant. Gone was her mirth from a few moments ago. He hated to see her struggle so, but justice had to prevail and she was the key to it all. "I keep trying to put a face to both of them. The only reason I know that there were two different men is because of their scent. One of them… it's odd, but he smelt like dirt."

"And the other one?"

She looked him in the eyes while biting at her lip. "He smelt like you, like old books and cinnamon."

He kept his face schooled, attempting to not show a reaction. "And which smell do you remember first?"

A slight smile turned the corners of her mouth, sad and quick. "Old books and cinnamon." She sat her plate aside. "I don't know how the last five years have been for you Jareth," she went on to say. "For me, it has been five years of adjusting to someone else's skin. You changed me some how."

He drank from his cup, using the moment as an excuse to look away from her. He knew he had changed her; had tainted her humanity.

She continued, "He was parading as a human, as one of my professors. Being in his company was fulfilling. I-I know this, but I can't see his face. He asked if I wanted to meet at his place." Her voice had grown edgy. She stood up from the couch, turning away from him to look out a window. "How could I refuse? He was what I had been missing. I let him kiss me."

Jareth sat tense on the couch. "Did you want him Sarah?"

"Yes…but only because he reminded me of what I had lost." She sniffed and pulled her chin up high. "Stupid, huh? Just a stupid school girl fantasy gone awry."

No- he wanted to tell her. No, not stupid. He should be up and across the room, holding her and comforting her. He should be leaning over her face, kissing her and telling her that she was not stupid. He just sat there though. "Did you say no?"

"I said I wanted to stop, and then…" She paused. Jareth looked at her- her head dropped and her shoulders had hunched. "Then he got angry, so very angry."

Finally he convinced him self to leave the couch and stand close to her. Images battled in his head- one moment seeing her naked, the next her bruises, and then her in that ridiculous white dress he had made for her five years ago. He stood next to her. "In a month," he said. "I am planning on hosting a party of sorts. It will be an ample opportunity for you to find your attackers. I give my word that every sort of fae man will be there, especially those with human predilections. Can you wait a month?"

Her brow furrowed. "A month? Sure, I can wait. I will have four weeks to plan out exactly what I intend to do to him. I'll render him a eunuch," she added her voice full venom.

Jareth couldn't help but smile approvingly. "Good. That's the Sarah I know. Come and eat now."


	8. Chapter 8

**Eight**

Over the following days Sarah began to ponder just how her retribution would be carried out. She was counting on her womanly cycle to begin shortly, hopefully putting to rest any concerns about pregnancy. Should she be late starting her cycle, surely a physician with the ability to perform a rape kit could also perform a simple pregnancy test.

One afternoon from a loft in the recreational room she watched as Jareth fenced with a partner. The sabers clanged and the two men yelled and grunted at each other. She wondered to her self how hard it would to master the techniques for a smaller blade, something like a dagger. Her revenge would have to be done discreet and swift. One skilled hold and another skilled flick would cut a man's throat and have him dead in seconds. Jareth dodged and landed a mark on his partner's shoulder. He could teach her.

As the two parted ways following their friendly match Sarah descended to the recreational room's floor. She admired the sabers laid out on the table. Glancing around the room she saw a few other objects for practicing. Jareth approached while removing his protective glove. "I want to learn," she announced.

"To fence?"

"Yes or at least something akin to it."

He sat the glove on the table and reached around his side to remove his plastron. "You plan on executing your vengeance with a blade?"

"I could strike swiftly, from a distance even if I learned how to throw. Will you teach me?"

He seemed to consider her proposal for a moment. Sarah was an enchanting woman, able to gain people's trust easily. If she could gain her attacker's trust, then she could easily get within a good striking range. "Are you certain of your self? Vengeance is a serious matter; wielding a weapon equally so. You commit your being to both, you best be convicted."

"I am."

"Puck!" he called for a near by servant. "Fetch my box of throwing knives."

A few moments later the goblin returned carrying a plain dark wood box. Carefully he sat the box on the table and lifted the lid: inside was a grey silk clothe. Having set aside the clothe Jareth produced an all most dainty set of silver knives. "There is something of a mantra all warriors learn," he said as he removed one and walked on to the practice mat. "King and knight alike are taught it." Stopping about middle he turned towards a practice dummy suspended against a wall and began to quote, "I do not strike with my hand. I strike with my eye." He raised his hand, the tip of the dagger balanced against his fingers. "I do not aim with my eye. I aim with my heart. And the heart judges it's self." In one smooth motion the dagger left his fingers and rocked the dummy. Looking Sarah saw it had landed where the eyes would have been. "Say it after me. I do not strike with my hand."

"I do not strike with my hand."

"I strike with my eye."

"I strike with my eye."

He went to retrieve the knife. "I do not aim with my eye."

"I do not aim with my eye."

The wood cracked as he yanked it forth. "I aim with my heart."

"I aim with my heart."

"And the heart judges it's self."

"And the heart judges it's self."

Standing next to her again he questioned her whether or not she understood the saying. "It is important that you do."

She replayed in her head the motions he had just gone through: where he stepped, how he held the blade, the movement of his hand. He had known exactly where that blade would land. Was it just skill? Was practice enough? "The blade goes where the hand tells it to go. The hand knows where to go because the eye sees the path." She paused attempting to put together the last part. You can know your target, but if you don't know why you're going to strike… "The eye is directed by the heart. The decision to strike is made internally."

"He who strikes to kill, whatever it may be, must understand the reason. He who kills for no reason is judged the moment his heart is put into action."

"The heart judges it's self," she repeated.

"Yet," he held the blade up. "Even he who has reason must ask him self- is he justified to act?" In another series of smooth movements he was behind her, one hand pulling her arms backwards, the other holding the blade to her throat. "Careful Sarah," he cautioned when she jerked.

"Jareth!" she hissed. She wasn't sure what hurt more: her arms twisted back or the trust he was threatening to break. His body was rigid and hot against hers. "You have no reason!"

"Don't I?" he responded in a casual tone. "I'm not so sure of that. Five years is a long time to nurse a wounded ego."

The metal was cold against her skin. "You can't be serious?"

"You challenged me, turned subjects against me, and threw my kingdom into chaos. I'm a sore looser Sarah."

"Jareth!"

"Aren't I justified?" he pressed.

Sarah saw the glint of the blade. "No more than I am. Didn't you taunt me? Didn't you mess with my head; turn my world up side down?"

He made an agreeing sound. "Well said." Moving the blade away he continued, "So I will ask you again: are your committed, are you justified in seeking vengeance?"

"No one asks to be raped and beaten."

"You yourself questioned whether or not it was entirely his fault."

"I admitted to going to his place freely, but no means no regardless of your species' origins!"

He released her. Her hand went to her throat feeling for some mark. With a huff she looked at him. "Say your mantra again," he ordered.

The first day of training began and she was showed the basics. He pointed out on the dummy the crucial hit points- throat, kidney, lower stomach, "And a vein that runs up by the groin- that is a major artery. You strike there your opponent will bleed out quickly." Every few moments he would ask her to repeat the mantra. If Sarah Williams was going to learn to kill under his instruction, she needed to be fully aware of the implications. He would vouch for her actions, as would Bartholomew- she was restoring her honor. After an hour he left her to see to some business with a smile.

Feeling that her new life was on the right path Sarah retreated to the library. She found Meep helping another goblin put away several stacks of books. Sarah smiled and waved. They returned the greeting and then went back to their work and their conversation. "It'll be a big to-do," said Meep. "Set your watch on it Violet."

Sarah wandered down the room, looking for a book to pass the two hours before she needed to dress for dinner.

Violet snorted, "I haven't got a watch to set, but would if I did! By the Mighty Ursik I would!"

"Bless him and his turnips," agreed Meep.

Sarah realized she was eaves dropping.

Meep continued, "This ball will be the last of our days," she lamented. "Miss Leslie will see to it. Her and her kind will have the most of us out."

"What with the drought and all," added Violet. "Tain't no wonder the king is entertaining such a bargain, but he could choose better. Here now Miss Sarah!" she called.

Sarah had been trying her darnedest to not appear interested in their conversation. She feigned surprise when Violet called her name. "Huh?"

"Take a look at her Meep," continued Violet as she approached the two goblins. "No flinching, no worrying, no complaining- just a nice woman who doesn't mind us. Tell us both miss would you put us out?"

Sarah looked at the two ratty haired goblins. She smiled at them. "Now why would I do that? This is the castle beyond the Goblin City last I checked."

"A woman of sense says I," complimented Meep.

"What bargaining chips could you offer miss if the king were interested in you? How could you ease the drought?"

Absently Sarah bit her lip. She hadn't a clue what drought the goblins were speaking of and only a vague suspicion of what they were suggesting Jareth was up to. "Unfortunately I don't even have a bag of Miracle Grow to my name," she answered.

Violet shook her head. "Tsk! Tsk!"

"So," Sarah ventured. She pretended to examine a few of the stacked books. "Just why is the king entertaining the Wimberly's?"

"Good land," replied Meep.

"They must have a lot of Miracle Grow," added Violet.


	9. Chapter 9

**Nine**

_1_

Two more days passed. Before breakfast one morning Jareth attended to some letters that had recently arrived. Only half aware of their contents, his mind was thinking on how he could improve Sarah's training. It had been a long year since he had called upon the good knight Sir Didymus, a man of skill and talent. He wondered at her delight in seeing her old friend again. Ignoring the opened letter he called for a servant and ordered that word be sent round to the bridge in the bog asking for Sir Dydimus. "His presence is requested," he instructed. "Tell him that his lady has returned."

With a satisfied smile he looked at the writing before him: it was from the Wimberly's. His smile tightened. The Seven Graces help him- they were still pressing for elf servants!

_2_

Pensively Sarah sat at the table. She found her self in the small dinning room waiting for Jareth. After a restless night she realized that she was bothered by what Meep and Violet had told her about the Wimberly's and Jareth. A marriage of business seemed so out of his character. A marriage without love seemed stupid. She also realized how foolish it was of her to care who the Goblin King entertained when he so obviously didn't carry a torch for her any more. Still how could he be happy in such a situation?

He came in silent and agitated. He dropped several letters on the table as he mumbled a good morning. The food was served. She glanced at the letters: one was from the Wimberly's. "Do you love her?" she suddenly asked. Part of her was mortified that the words had come out.

He sat roughly in the chair. "I beg your pardon?"

"Miss Wimberly- do you love her?"

He reached for the butter. "I find her company agreeable."

"Because of her land?"

He looked questioningly at her.

"Do you find her company agreeable on account of her land?" When he didn't say anything she continued, "The servants have been talking about a drought and how the Wimberly's can help."

He turned his attention back to his plate. "It doesn't concern you Sarah. Don't worry about it."

"But I care about what happens."

"Stop trying to make a play for the throne," he snapped harshly. "I get enough of that from court women." He drank from his coffee cup.

Sarah sat there for a moment unable to respond. "I ran and knew your Labyrinth. I care about what happens to it." She stood up from the table and left the room.

At practice that day they were silent with one another- he commanded, she complied. He grew agitated with her when she didn't perform a move correctly. In response she would purposefully take her time taking a stance or giving an answer. By day's end the two of them were barely using three words to communicate. Alone in her own quarters Sarah was glad to find her cycle beginning. At least she wasn't carrying her attacker's child.

More rumors spread through the castle about the changes pending on Miss Wimberly's position. No one seemed to particularly like her. The general census labeled her as a nuisance and hardly Goblin Queen material. As Sarah readied to go down for another practice session Meep came in dramatically waving her arms. "That's it!" exclaimed the goblin. "I'm done for! Fare thee well Miss Sarah." She took her hand.

"Why Meep whatever are you talking about?"

"Have you not heard? At this up coming party, at this stupid ball Miss Wimberly means to have the lot of us turned out and replace us with elves!"

"What?"

"We'll be turned into the Elf City! I won't wait around for that. The Might Urisk protect me!"

Sarah took the goblin by the shoulders. "Calm your self Meep. How do you know this?"

Meep looked sheepish. "King's letters. I read them. A few anyway. I'm going to gather my chickens and be gone towards one of the royal cities."

"Be still Meep. Tell me true why does the king entertain the Wimberly's?"

"He needs their land Miss Sarah like I all ready told you."

"Yes, but why? What's wrong with the land here in the Labyrinth?"

"Five years ago the land began to dry up. The voices not say why."

"Voices?" she asked.

Meep nodded. "The voices of the Labyrinth, they not tell king why the land is no good."

So there was the root of the problem- he needed the Wimberly's land because the Labyrinth was drying up. She wondered to her self though whether or not the Labyrinth had ever said that Miss Wimberly was the answer. "Meep do not pack up yet. I will talk with the king." She straightened up and headed for the door.

"All right miss, I will. You know we like you!" she called after her as she left.

In the recreational room Jareth waited impatiently. Next to him stood Sir Didymus, his finest attire on and his whiskers brushed to a smooth perfection. He sensed the king's distress. Smiling to him self, he remembered a time five years ago when his demeanor had been similar. 'Some things never change,' he thought. When Sarah arrived she greeted the little fox warmly with a hug. "My lady, you look marvelous!" he praised her. "Now let me see what the king has taught you. A little hand to hand demonstration if you please. Jareth- to the mat!" he ordered.

Reluctantly the two stood on the mat. As they selected their small practice sticks, quietly Sarah bit out, "What is he- a peace offering?"

He scoffed. "Peace is something that will only be once you're out of the castle."

Didymus ordered them to begin. The two began to circle each other.

"Yes that's right," said Sarah. "Clear me and the goblins out- leave plenty of room for your blushing bride."

He lunged, she deflected. "At least she has something to blush about," he quipped.

Angered she lunged and knocked him hard on his left side.

"Excellent strike my lady!" complimented Didymus. "Jareth watch your foot work."

The two went at it again. Her forearm ached as he deflected. His rib cage throbbed where she struck.

He was stupid.

She was meddling.

"Jealous Sarah?" he teased as they locked close together. Didymus yelled out some tactical point. He gripped her wrist. "I've kissed her you know."

She twisted her body and shoved her shoulder against his chest. With the wind temporarily knocked out of him she advanced. "You egotistical, stupid, half wit!" she yelled at him. "You make me play your game, you taint my humanity with that bloody peach, and when I finally make it back to you-!" Here she paused struggling with him again. Ignoring all the rules of engagement she wacked at his hand that held his stick. "I find you entertaining a woman who doesn't even like goblins!" She wasn't sure whether it was her hormones or her rage or perhaps a combination of both, but the next thing she knew she had swept his feet out from under him, squatted down, and put a knee to his throat. Thus positioned she could easily injure him.

Jareth winced and gazed back at her. She had rendered him defenseless. Didymus ordered him to give. He lay there though waiting for her next move. Her eyes held such cruelty, a mixture of disdain and anger. With a huff she straightened up, tossed her practice stick to the ground, and stormed from the room.

Dydimus made an approving sound. Her strength was her speed; to out maneuver the king and still be considered a beginner- he smiled. He watched Jareth get to his knees all the while watching her go. "Will you go after her?" he asked.

Jareth rolled his shoulders and rubbed his neck. The fall had hurt. "I do not run after students," he replied sharply.

The little fox scoffed. "She is more than a student," he snipped before walking away.

Darn the fox and his known history with them- he was right! He went after her, removing his plastron as he walked. The door she had taken led outside to a path and then a small clearing. The air was chilly. He shivered slightly at the temperature change. She was standing just a few yards away. "Well," he began gaining her attention. "Care to explain yourself?"

"I couldn't commit," she replied flatly. "I couldn't justify the strike."

He regarded her. "You did well to stop then."

"Why did you leave me?" she then demanded facing him fully.

"What?" he asked taken aback.

"Five years ago you left me. After everything, you left me."

They were broaching on a subject that was not easy to discuss. "As I recall it, you won the game."

"You knowingly began my change and left me in the human world, you sick twisted idiot!"

"I had a kingdom to clean up."

His dodging replies were not enough. "In essence you left me all alone- do you know how much that hurts?" Her temper had risen again and she nearly yelling.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "Yes, I do! You are left hallow, confused, frightened. It drives you to do things you normally wouldn't do, including running after others hoping to be whole."

"I looked for you," she then admitted. "I wanted you to come back for me."

"I couldn't. Sarah it sounds like an excuse, but believe me when I say, I had a kingdom to tend to."

"I wanted what you offered! But not before the safety of my brother!"

"You talk about your five years of adjusting to your new skin; I had five years to reverse the mayhem that our encounter caused. I am not entirely blaming you," he then added as gently as he could.

Still she glared at him. "So all of this- the drought I hear talk of, the voices from the Labyrinth, the Wimberly's- all of this is happening because I won the game?"

"It all began five years ago."

She thought about what Meep had told her up in her room, how the voices and Jareth seemed to actually communicate. "Did you ever ask the Labyrinth if it was my fault? Or did you just assume?" she then asked when he looked away from her. "You really are a sore looser." She turned away and began walking down the path.

He had tried to reason with the Labyrinth- the voices had been elusive though. Frustrated he tossed his gear to the ground. He had not spent five years trying to restore order, keep her at a safe distance, and live a calm life only to have him self painted as the bad guy. Nor was he ready to have Sarah Williams think that in those five years he never once thought about going to look in on her, to tempt fate and bring her near his home again for he had. The Seven Graces help him! Yet here he was once again going along that thin line. Striding after her, he caught up, and forced her to turn around. "You think this is the path I wanted?" he asked holding on to her arm. "Because it's not! That night watching you through your window, seeing you celebrate, I would have flown right through breaking all of the glass had I thought I would have been welcome."

"Jareth, let me go!"

"No, not this time." He took hold of her other arm. "I left you. You spent five years wandering about feeling lost, and you got hurt- for that I am sorry. By the Blessed Moon and the Seven Graces, I wish that hadn't happened! But I will not have you think that this is what I wanted."

She craned her neck and shook hair from her eyes. "Then what do you want?"

Ghads, he wanted her! He could feel her breasts pressed against him, could see her intense green eyes, could smell her hair. "I want," he paused. Relaxing his hold on her he continued, "I want what the Labyrinth wants."

She managed to shake his hands off of her. "Then talk to it."

"I give you my word, I will. Please- I do not like being angry with you- please, come inside with me. We will take refreshment with Sir Didymus."

"Wait, how soon? How soon will you talk to the Labyrinth?"

"This evening I will." He held his hand out to her. "Forgive me Sarah."

"Yes Jareth I will forgive you." She took his hand.


	10. Chapter 10

**Ten**

_1_

She was in the Labyrinth. She knew this before even opening her eyes.

Afraid that if she did open her eyes she would chase away the figments of the dream, she lay still. A light wind blew over her. She could smell a faint spice and feel her long night gown slightly fluttering. The ground beneath her was hard, yet supportive, it was not uncomfortable. She was supposed to be laying here. On the wind she heard her name, softly in a chorus of small voices, and she opened her eyes.

The sky above her was diamond encrusted with millions of stars. They twinkled and shone full of brilliance. She could even make out the Milky Way, its thin membrane threading its way from horizon to horizon. From where she lay she glanced around- she recognized the court yard of stones and hedges as the place where five years ago she had met the Wiseman and his talking hat. The place had been more or less the center of the maze.

Sitting up she breathed deep and sighed dreamily. It felt good to be within the Labyrinth again. She realized she was lying atop a sort of toppled granite chair; its back portion now reclined and its seat was skewed to one side. Off to her left Jareth stood. He seemed to have a pale glow about him in the soft light of the stars and moon. Around his neck his sickle pendant shinned. To her eyes he was ethereal and haunting, yet beautiful. And, Sarah realized, he was supposed to be standing there.

_2_

Just outside the city gates Jareth stood with Sir Didymus. Before them the Labyrinth began its course, winding deep into shadowy curves and twists. Both of them surveyed the elusive patterns, looking for the path that would lead you to your destiny. Like the journey of life, the path of the Labyrinth was often invisible until you reached your end goal. The two men of the Underground understood that.

Sir Didymus' mustache twitched as his nose smelt the night air. Something hovering near by, holding to the very atmosphere made his nostrils tickle. He lived by his sense of smell; he should know what this scent was. He sniffed again, deeper raising his snout. What was it? He looked at his king- his eyes were narrowed intently studying the horizon. "Sire, something comes," said Didymus cautiously.

The land was crowned with the stars of heaven. Jareth saw this display and was pleased. The creature, his Labyrinth, was worthy of honor. The years of drought had been rough on the land, pulling it tight and leaving it unyielding. At least in the light of the stars and moon she still had her glory. He too smelt the change in the air. "Aye good knight," he replied. "Something indeed comes." Without another word he started of into the maze, to implore answers and listen to the voices of the creature he so loved.

_3_

He moved to stand in front of her, leaning against the remains of the chair's arm rests. Sarah felt her heart come alive with anticipation with him so close. She could clearly see his mismatched eyes regarding her intensely. He seemed to teeter between his desire to lean closer or run to the opposite side of the court yard. Reaching out she covered his gloved hand that gripped the arm. "The rain will come," she said.

"Soon enough?" he pressed leaning closer.

_4_

With a sound that at one moment was like air being sucked through a straw and then a bubble being popped, Jareth disappeared and reappeared following his invisible path through the Labyrinth. He first found him self at the doors of the riddlers Ralph and Alph, who guarded his passages to his oubliettes and castle respectively. Both were sound asleep.

Jareth waited listening to the night.

Alph mumbled in his sleep, "…bears water and air, while springing from the ground."

Startled Jareth glared at the guard. Alph snorted and he realized that the guard was talking in his sleep.

"The place," exclaimed Ralph loudly. He too was sleep talking. "The place where the head detaches it's self!"

What were these two guards going on about? Something that bears water and air, while springing from the ground- what could that be? He considered what Ralph said and it made far greater sense to him. The only place where heads could be detached was in the Forbidden Forest among the Firies. Those crazy orange creatures were the only dwellers of the Labyrinth who did such odd things with their body parts. Suuuck-POP! He disappeared from the guards and reappeared in the forest.

The Forbidden Forest was hardly a forest any more. The grass had dried up and been worked into a fine dust, which clung to his shoes as he walked. The trees were nearly bare. Their sparse foliage was turning shades of yellow and brown. The Firies had gone into nearly full seclusion, seeking out the last few bushes to hide in. Here was perhaps the worst example of the damage his kingdom had suffered.

Examining a few leaves he felt his frustration rising. He had been stupid to bring Sarah near his home again. He hated that little bit of hope he carried for her. This is what she had done- was that what the Labyrinth trying to tell him? See you silly fae king! See what your darling fascination did!

"Is it her fault?" he suddenly demanded the air. "Give me a clear answer! No more riddles; no more seeking; no more aimless living- just a simple answer. Please, I implore you!"

From the distance a woman's scream could be heard. The sound resounded inside him, causing his very blood to shudder. Sarah was in danger.

_5_

Jareth had kissed her. Lying there, feeling the wind, safe and secure in the curves of the Labyrinth she had let him kiss her. His advances were welcome, were wanted. She put a hand in his hair wondering if it was the equivalent of touching moon light. Then he exhaled, his warm breath washing over her skin. Something was wrong with his breath though. She tasted something earthy in her mouth. That was not Jareth's scent.

Dirt. This man smelt like dirt.

With a gasp Sarah bolted up right in bed. The smell of dirt still clung to her and she feared that her experience was not a dream and she screamed into the night. Her attacker was in the room! Her attacker was back! She screamed again.

Jareth appeared in the room. He was at the bed side calling her name. She was rambling about someone being the room and how he was going to hurt her. "Jareth you must protect me," she said clinging to his shirt. "He will hurt me!"

He glanced around just to be sure- not another presence was to be found. "Ssshhh! Sarah, no one is here, but you and me. No one is going to hurt you," he soothed her. He held her in his arms. "It was just a dream."

Sarah breathed deep- cloves and cinnamon. This was the scent she knew and took comfort in. "Don't leave me," she then said when he attempted to move away.

She looked positively panicked. "I'll stay," he said. "Lie down."

"No!" She tensed. "I don't think I will be able to sleep again, not tonight."

He considered his options. "Come back to my study with me. I can manage a fire and perhaps a cup of tea." Pulling a blanket from the bed he wrapped it around her shoulders, and they went to the study.

She sat huddle on the sofa. He glanced back at her as he bent over to set the wood in the hearth. Her shoulders were hunched and her head was drawn down. With a snap of his fingers, sparks leapt from his skin, and the wood caught fire. "Handy," he heard her comment. He smiled. "Magic can be quite convenient," he said. "Though I must admit my resources are running a bit low at the moment."

She looked quizzically at him.

"I'm tired," he explained. "and stressed. It's hard to perform consistently when I'm not fully rested."

"Well, why don't we skip that tea offer then?"

Dusting off his hands he moved to sit near her. He chuckled. "Fine, but more importantly, how are you doing?"

She pulled her blanket closer. Only a few hours ago she had been behaving with bravado, taking her frustrations out on the Goblin King. Now she felt small and vulnerable. "I keep expecting to smell him, you know?" she finally said. "As if I am going to discover some trace of him here."

"That won't happen- he is not here." He ventured to touch her shoulder and squeeze in comfort.

"I know. You-you smell right." She put her hand over his.

She looked so fragile. He had come to her, without her even calling his name. Shifting he put his arm around her shoulders and drew her near to his chest. "I shall do my best to always keep you safe."

After a moment she said, "I'm-I'm sorry I got so mad at you earlier."

"Quiet Sarah," he replied. "There is no need for apologies. I," he paused. Why did he take such pleasure in her nearness? Clearing his throat he continued, "I owed you an explanation, and the lack thereof left you to come to your own conclusions about me. And you're right Sarah, I am a sore looser."

The fire popped and sputtered. Beginning to feel drowsy Jareth maneuvered the two on the sofa and leaned back against the side cushions. She lay still and warm against him. "What did happen after I left?" she suddenly asked.

"The Labyrinth grew quiet. It became far more elusive then it had ever been. Then the rain ceased, and thus began the painful, slow deterioration of the land."

"Did it say anything tonight?"

He half yawned and half sighed. "No."

"Has it said anything about me since I've returned?"

"No, it hasn't."

She lay there considering that for a moment. "So I haven't made things worse at least."

He was now fighting to keep his eyes open. "No dearest. Go to sleep." He patted her arm.

She dared to ask one more question, "Has it ever said anything about Miss Wimberly?"

"No. Now, don't force me to use a sleep enchantment to make you cease these questions."

Hidden against his chest she smirked. "Cruel bully," she quipped.

"Irritating meddler. Now be still."


	11. Chapter 11

**Eleven**

The following morning Sarah realized she had actually slept. Snuggled against his chest she had found solace and had relaxed into a dreamless sleep. As she changed into her practice outfit to spend time in the recreational room she thought how nice it would be to spend every night with him. After five years she was still just as convinced that Jareth the Goblin King was the man for her. What if the Labyrinth thought otherwise though? She looked out her window towards the sprawling maze with longing. If Jareth only desired what the Labyrinth allowed him to… Her thoughts trailed. With a sigh she left her chambers.

Days passed into weeks, and soon the party was only fourteen days away. Every afternoon Jareth met her in the recreational room building her strength and honing her skills. She was turning into a very sharp fae with exceptional reflexes. Every day that they worked so close together he found him self thinking less and less about the Wimberly's.

One afternoon as she made her way to practice she knew instinctually that he was waiting for her; she knew this before entering the door. His smell was evident to her. That was something she had noticed happening far more frequently- her sense of smell was far sharper and she would realize someone was near without even seeing them. Once inside the room she smiled at him. "What shall we practice today?" she asked him.

He nodded towards a table. "Throwing."

She looked and saw the familiar box that contained the throwing knives. "Ah," she let out with a hint of satisfaction.

"We have spent a lot of time on dealing with a close encounter or even hand to hand combat," continued Jareth lifting the lid. "But we must consider all possibilities. You may need to strike from a distance. Stand over there, across from the dummy."

The makeshift man hung by his arms waited patiently. Sarah wished she could put a face to it; to visualize her attacker. She felt Jareth step behind her.

"Say your lesson," he said. "Close your eyes, see where you would strike, and say the mantra."

She closed her eyes. "I do not strike with my hand. I strike with my eye." What did she see? Where would the blade go once it left her fingers? In her mind she saw the knife moving hilt over tip, spinning through the air. "I do not aim with my eye. I aim with my heart." The knife moved at a low angle. "And the heart judges it's self." In her head instead of hearing the crack of the wood, she heard a squish as flesh was severed and blood gushed forth.

Jareth reached down and touched her hand. Her body had turned rigid in concentration. Guiding her hand up and back he spoke, "Move with the knife. Let it leave your fingers as an extension. Pull it back and then let it fly." He extended her arm forward.

Keeping her eyes closed she saw the knife leaving her fingers again, moving at that same low angle. Where was the blade going? Then she felt Jareth put a hand to her hip and her concentration broke. She realized he was standing immediately behind her; her back tingled under the close proximity. He was telling her to widen her stance, and she had to mentally slap her self.

"Now," he paused moving away.

Sarah exhaled sharply.

"Now we try with a real knife." He held the weapon out to her. "Say your mantra and then throw."

As she prepared her first throw, Puck appeared saying that two letters had just arrived. Leaving Sarah to her concentration he took the letter from the goblin. As he broke the seal on one he observed Sarah's movements- she was very fluid and fast. Her arm pulled back and then sprang forward- the knife hurled through the air at a graceful arch. With a loud crack the blade struck the wood. Jareth's eyebrows drew up in surprise: she had struck the dummy between the legs. With a dark, amused chuckle he lowered his eyes to read the message. "Well?" she called to him.

He broke the second seal. "You were serious about that eunuch business."

She glanced from him to the dummy. "It's where my heart wanted it to go. A man who rapes doesn't deserve to ever procreate."

"Hhhm, and you shall have your chance to prove your dedication soon. Several guests will be arriving early."

"How soon?"

"Within three days there will be four other fae in this house, not to mention their servants."

"It's still roughly two weeks off, why come so early?" she asked.

He folded the letters. "One group will be the Wimberly's; the other…. Well, he's one of those special invites."

He watched as she began to pick at some imaginary thread on her sleeve. "How will you explain me to the Wimberly's?"

"Sarah, nothing is set in stone. I cannot help the fact that the Labyrinth refuses to talk to me."

Her green eyes met his. "Maybe it's silent because you're undecided." She left the room.

She passed Sir Didymus who was coming down the stairs. He paused asking where she was going. "Not now Didymus," she said briskly. He called after her once, but sensing her distress let her be. Looking down into the room he saw his king standing alone. "Sire," he said reaching him. "Is everything all right?"

Jareth shook his head slowly. "Didymus, do you like Leslie Wimberly?"

"Like?" repeated the fox. He cleared his throat. "You mean as in the same way I like Lady Sarah?"

"Yes."

"Well sire, er, they are two very different women…"

Jareth gave him a stern look. "Didymus!" he said sharply.

"Well I, um… no sire, I do not. You wanted to know," he hastened to add. He watched as he king flung up his hands and turned towards the stair case. He sat down on one of the steps. "What troubles thee sire?" he then asked.

"Women."

"Ah!"

"Between Leslie, Sarah, and even the confounded Labyrinth I am at my whit's end! If it would just talk to me," he then mumbled. "Then I would know what it wanted!"

Didymus regarded him for a moment. "Your highness, what is it that thou doest want?"

"It has never been about what I wanted."

"Really sire? Yes, I do beg to differ."

"How so?"

Didymus took a seat on a stair slightly higher. "You wanted Sarah to wish her brother away. You had been observing her for some time prior to that fateful night. You wanted her to challenge you because quite frankly sire, you like challenges. You wanted her to run the Labyrinth so you could watch her, surprise her, and enjoy her reactions. Everything you wanted to happen happened that night."

"But, I wanted her to accept my offer. That did not happen!"

"Ah, yes, your offer. My lady confided in me what happened those last precious moments in the Escher room. She refused your offer because you honestly did not want a broken Sarah."

Dumbfounded Jareth sat there on the stair case. "She would have had to have turned her back on everything she believed in."

"Exactly."

Putting his face in his hands Jareth groaned. "By the Blessed Moon, what a mess I've created. That peach ended up in her hand because I wanted it to; I tainted her!" He huffed lifting his face up. "But that doesn't explain why the Labyrinth is silent."

"Because sire, it is not about what the Labyrinth wants, it's about what thee wants! Do you want Leslie Wimberly- a woman of good birth, yet who quite honestly annoys your subjects, but will be eternally submissive to you? Or do you want Sarah Williams, a woman who respects your subjects and demands respect in return? There in will lie the answer to your problems."


	12. Chapter 12

Twelve

"There is a hidden panel here. See, you can reach sort of under it. You shall hide your dagger there."

Sarah observed Jareth in the reflection of the mirror. A few special dresses had been made for her, ones that provided a secret place for her to discreetly carry her weapon of choice. The panel was located on the side of her bodice. The dress she wore tonight was a stunning array of green and gold. To further enhance her appearance, making her as convincing as possible, he had also sent up certain jewels from his personal vaults- necklaces, earrings, and rings that frosted the skin. She watched as he reached around her waist and moved his hand into the hidden compartment with ease. "See?" he asked removing his hand.

She nodded. "Yes, very convenient."

The guests had arrived that very afternoon. To avoid any awkward introductions Jareth met the first to arrive, the Wimberly's, alone. The countess and her daughter were the only two to arrive, "Father will be late," explained Leslie taking his arm. Jareth smiled. In the back of his mind he was rehearsing how he was going to explain Sarah- a lady who had known several of his subjects for many years, whose presence was requested as a sort of reunion. The finer details he would leave out were that the acquaintances in question were a grumpy dwarf, a frisky fox, and a simple red beast. That and along with the fact that he had ultimately refused elf servants were going to be a huge surprise for the Wimberly's come the day of the ball.

After twenty minutes of refreshments, he excused him self claiming that he was on the look out for another guest. In truth he had gone to Sarah's room to make sure she was presentable and aware of the hidden panel. "I want you ready for when he arrives."

Sarah felt an odd calm come over her. She had often wondered how she would feel at this moment- would she cry, break out in hysterics, tremble? In the few precious moments prior to the encounter she felt resolved. As long as she didn't visualize Jareth fondling another woman that is. "What is his name?" she asked as he moved away from the mirror.

"Lord Edenberge. Now Sarah, I am confident that this man injured you, but you must assess him your self. Trust to your senses and I in turn will trust your actions. I have a gift for you," he then said.

She shook her head. "Really Jareth after everything you have done for me-,"

"Shh!" Having shown her his two empty hands, he clapped, and slowly folded his hands out palm up- a slender black box appeared.

"What is this?" she asked taking it.

He smiled. "Open it."

A slight rapping on the door broke the moment. A servant appeared saying that a message had arrived from the outer perimeter- "The guards send you a message sire." Jareth irritated at having this special moment interrupted simply told him to put the message in his study. His eyes focused on Sarah again he watched her untie the silver ribbon and lift the lid on the box. Inside, lying against a velvet cushion was a discreet dagger. "I couldn't have you use just any weapon," he said as she lifted it out.

The sheath had the emblem representing the crescent moon carved on it. "Jareth," she breathed surprised. Gingerly she took hold of it- it was light in her hand. She pulled the blade forth. The sight of the shiny surface with its smooth sides and sharp point caused her heart to race. It was lovelier than all of the jewels he had lent her.

"It is a special silver," she heard him explain. "Harmless to the touch, but deadly with the right force. Use it well Sarah."

She was lost in the sheen, the light reflected so alluringly. At that moment, with the weight of the weapon in her hand, Sarah knew she could either burst forth in passion or in furry.

"It is a lovely thing." He was at her ear sharing her perspective of the dagger. Her burst of adrenalin was a like sweet perfume to his senses. He nearly envied her, her chance to cut the flesh of Lord Edenbrge- it was going to be a glorious moment.

Closing her eyes she broke her trance. "Thank you," she said and then taking a deep breath turned to look at him. 'The bog take the Wimberly's,' she thought looking into his eyes. She was the one who for the last month had been living day to day life with him and gaining the respect of his subjects; not some fickle court woman. "Thank you," she repeated.

Abruptly he turned from her. "Come down and I shall have Dink announce you." Pausing at the door he looked back at her, "From this night forth you shall be known as Lady Sarah Williams."

When she found her self in the main hall, her dress trailing around her, her neck cool under the stones of the necklace she had chosen to wear, and her dagger firmly secured, she felt a shift in her personal balance. The calm she had felt up stairs was replaced with tingles. She still had her resolve, but knowing that the Wimberly's, Miss Leslie Wimberly specifically was on the other side of the door made the hairs on her arms raise up. In her mind she saw her self in the old familiar park near her house where she used to play. 'Be that girl Sarah,' she told her self. 'You're going to have to act!'

The doors were pushed open. "Announcing Lady Sarah Williams!" Dink's voice rang clear. The little goblin bowed to her as she passed by. The room's occupants stood and everyone bowed politely to the other. "Sire," she said holding her curtsey. "It is a pleasure to be in your company again."

"Likewise Lady Sarah." Jareth's voice was cool and calm. "Arise and meet my other honored guests: Countess Amilia Wimberly and her daughter Miss Leslie Wimberly from the land of Norfolk." Looking up Sarah regarded the two women before her- both favored fairer hair that was twisted and done up in intricate braids. "Ladies it is my pleasure to introduce to you Lady Sarah Williams who has travelled a great distance to be here for our ball."

The younger of the two smiled warm and friendly at her. "Lady Williams, any friend of his majesty's is most welcome."

The countess managed a brief smile. "Pleasure Lady Williams."

As they all took their seats another goblin appeared who apparently had a dish rag thrown over his arm as a butler would. He leaned near Sarah. "Some tea to drink lady?" he asked with a grin.

She noticed a tea set on a side table. Countess Wimberly had whipped open her fan and turned her face away in disdain from the servant. "Perhaps you could bring me something stronger," she said. "Coffee or even a cappuccino perchance?"

Leslie giggled. "Cappuccino?" she repeated. "There's an uncommon drink in the Underground!"

Jareth cleared his throat sensing the sharp look Sarah was controlling. "Moss, see what can be done." He waved the servant away.

The countess folded her fan with a flick of her wrist. "Surely you must be joking about that drink Lady Williams," she said. "After all… it is a… human drink." Human came out as it were a four letter word- bitter and disgusting.

Sarah shrugged. "Yes, and thank the Moon for their creation!"

"I see."

"Ladies," said Jareth in a sort of bored mock-scolding tone. "Are we really going to discuss the pros and cons of the human beverages our first night together? My guests are arriving to celebrate the changing of the seasons- it is a time for merriment!"

"I quite agree Jareth," chimed in Leslie. "Oh," she then added looking mildly embarrassed. "Excuse my sense of familiarity with his majesty Lady Williams. We are very old acquaintances."

Sarah wished she had a fan she could flip to make a silent remark with. Instead she smiled, near cryptically, and said, "As are we my dear Miss Wimberly."

Bearing the Wimberly's- the countess' fastuous attitude and Leslie's naivety- was proving the most difficult task. How had Jareth been bearing this family's ridiculous attitude? Sarah nearly wished that Lord Edenberge would hasten his arrival. Moss had returned with coffee, saying that they could not manage a cappuccino, "At least not tonight- frothing is tricky," he explained. She accepted the beverage grateful to have the caffeine. Much to her disappointment, dinner was announced before his arrival.

Conversation at dinner eventually became over run with the topic of this up coming ball. Miss Leslie grew increasingly excited as she talked- her gown was going to make her the envy of the ball! Her mother continually dropped names of certain royals and court members who had accepted their invitation. Jareth sat silent through most of it with a faint smile on his lips. "Everyone adores the idea that it's a masquerade!" exclaimed Leslie briefly touching his arm.

Sarah nearly dropped her fork. "It-it's to be a masked ball?" she asked recovering from her surprise.

"Why yes- didn't he tell you?"

Sarah wasn't sure whether to laugh or just smirk. "No," was all she said.

Her attitude troubled Leslie. "Whatever is it Lady Williams- don't you like masquerades?"

"Well, it's just that, umm, I haven't a mask." What was another lie to add to the list of one's all ready told tonight? She gave Jareth an amused look, her eyebrow flashing up brief and poignant.

With a light laugh Leslie continued, "Never fear Lady Williams! I have a few extras- I am certain one of them will do you justice."

It was at that opportune moment that Dink appeared. "Announcing his lordship, Lord Philip Edenberge of the Far Reaches!"

'Saved from frivolities!' thought Sarah taking a sip of her wine.

The table was about to rise to greet the new arrival when the man came pounding in. "Don't get up! Don't get up!" he exclaimed waving his arm. "I am late and you all want a hot supper. Jareth, still ruling the goblins I see! How are you your majesty?" He spoke with formal words, but with a careless tone. Having gripped Jareth's shoulder, he shook his hand with vigor. "Haven't seen you since that day at court. What has it been- a month? Whatever did you do with that scrap of a mortal?"

Jareth response was merely to smile. "That," he began to say, squaring his shoulders and tilting his chin up. "Would be a most improper topic in front of the ladies." He watched Edenberge take the seat at the far end of the table. Naturally it would be hard for him to recognize Sarah- here she was bathed, healed of her wounds, and fully changed. She hardly bore any resemblance to the state he had found her in. Then his gaze shifted to Sarah's face- she seemed to be absorbed in her food.

The man smelt like a garden. She took another bite of her food. His scent was all most a perfect match. But aside from the soil factor, there was also a sort of flower element to it- like a garden. She glanced up at him- a well trimmed beard, dark hair, and an awkwardly large nose. He seemed familiar. "My dear Philip!" She heard the countess exclaim. "Whatever is that cologne that you are wearing? It is simply bewitching!"

"Yes isn't it though? It is the essence of spring my dear countess. Winter is not my season I'm afraid."

Still observing Sarah, Jareth noticed her hands tighten around her cutlery. He would trust to whatever actions she deemed worthy to take. Yes, he would trust and be proud of her.

Lord Edenberge was an obnoxious, egotistical, loud narcissistic bully. Though his character hardly seemed to bother the countess- she acted a little too familiar with him- he definitely appeared to bother Leslie. The young woman kept her distance and dialogue in check. Sarah noticed this as they moved from the dinning room to the parlor. She wanted to behave in a similar fashion, to keep a safe distance, but she had a mission to accomplish. She needed to get closer to the lord.

Miss Leslie agreed to sing for the small group. Casually Sarah moved to his side, breathing deep. Standing at his shoulder, she inhaled and separated out the cologne from him. Yes, there he was; that rich, deep earth smell. Leslie's voice rang out, clear and full. "Lord Edenberge." She spoke his name low and friendly-like gaining his attention. "I am Lady Sarah Williams. I believe we have not been formally introduced yet."

He took her offered hand. "Pleasure my good lady."

When he briefly kissed her hand she felt her stomach tighten threatening to dispense its contents on his shoes. She managed a smile instead. "Am I to understand from earlier comments, good sir, that you have a certain inkling towards humans?" She was making it up as she went along.

He smirked. "Why yes! It is no secret that I have a predilection for those in the Above." He shifted his weight leaning a bit closer. In response Sarah stood up straighter, lifting her chest in his direction. "Might I inquire why it matters to such a fine fae woman as your self?"

'By the Seven Graces!' The Underground exclamatory ran through her mind without a second thought. 'He doesn't recognize me!'

"Well, good sir," she responded. "in my experience it has proven to be beneficial to know those with similar tastes. Humans, after all, are fascinating creatures with equally fascinating habits."

"And what fascinating things have they taught you?"

"Plenty." She smiled, crooked and suggestive. His scent suddenly over powered his cologne. She had him! Her fingers twitched excited; she struggled to control them. Leslie's voice rose and fell.

"Care to teach me what you've learned?" he then pressed speaking in quieter tones.

"Perhaps." She moved her eyes up and down him in assessment. "Prove yourself a worthy student first." With a nod she moved away from him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Thirteen**

For several more days Sarah played the game. She stood close to Lord Edenberge, inclined her head when he spoke, and was eventually sitting next to him at every meal. He made her want to take a scolding hot bath after every encounter. As she prepared to go down to dinner the fourth evening, she wondered how Jareth was getting along with the Wimberly's. They had hardly spoken to one another since the guests had arrived; she left him to his own designs as much as he left her to her own.

Shortly after dinner Edenberge announced that he was going to retire early. A moment later, Sarah announced a similar desire. So focused was she on her mission that she failed to see Jareth's slight twitch around his eyes. In the gallery that held the bed chambers she spotted him, moving at a slow pace. "Lord Edenberge," she called to him softly. "Retiring all ready?"

"Ah my dear Lady Williams! Yes, I am retiring to my chambers. Perhaps you would care to sit with me for a bit?"

"Sit?" she repeated in mock disdain. "Come, come my good sir, surely we can do better than sit."

"Perhaps then we could discuss our common interests? You know I too have learned a great deal from the human world."

At this point they had stopped in the dimly lit hall. Sarah leaned close, feeling her gut twist as she heard the words coming out of her mouth, "I am a good student, and an equally eager teacher."

He licked his lips. "Shall we then my good lady?" Taking his arm she went with him.

Once in the room the man wouldn't stop smiling. Sarah wondered how many women he had been with; more importantly how many had been forced? Her fingers twitched. Edenberge sat on the edge of the bed, his legs spread wide in a crude invitation. She stood in front of him. "So what do you care to teach me?" he asked her while running a finger down her jaw line.

Sarah shuddered, hoping it to be interpreted as pleasure.

"I am quite willing to learn anything," he added smugly.

"Well," she paused placing a hand on his thigh. "Why don't you just be a good boy and sit still? No touching yet."

"Ah, I can do that."

She bit the inside of lip fighting her revulsion. His scent hung in the air almost like a literal mist. Casually she reached up and let down part of her hair. "Do you find me attractive Lord Edenberge?"

"Philip," he corrected. "Call me Philip, and by Oberon- yes, I do find you attractive!"

He was all ready breathing raggedly. This man was a pig. She moved near him again. "Remember, no touch-y yet. Philip," she leaned near to his ear. "You don't remember me do you?"

She felt him stiffen slightly. "Remember you-?" he asked with a hint of bewilderment.

While her one hand ran the length of his thigh distracting him, the other slipped between the panels on her bodice where she concealed her knife. In a blur she had the knife removed and held to his throat. Using the bed for balance she raised her knee to his crotch. Edenberge's smile vanished. "Because I remember you," she stated darkly.

"My dear Lady Williams, what are you doing?" he sputtered. "Please, I've never met you before-!"

"Liar!" she exclaimed pushing up on his groin.

This time he tensed and cried out in anticipation of the pain. "Please!"

The grip of the handle was like a white hot power source in her hand. "I'm the girl you brought to market after you beat and raped me!"

"By Oberon- no, no! No impossible! That girl was a mortal!"

Her hand that held the blade twitched. "I am that girl, I assure you Philip Endenberge. And you good sir shall pay for your sins!" Her voice dripped with sadistic pleasure.

"The Seven Graces preserve me! I was told you were a mortal slave girl! I didn't know!" The man had begun to sweat. "But I sear I never penetrated you! Please spare me!"

Sarah considered his words. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shove your testicles up into your stomach and slit your throat."

"I can tell you who I bought you from!"

The other man with the other smell. "Who?" she demanded.

Edenberge gasped for breath. "He's some important fae, some royal who enjoys parading as a human-!"

"What's his name?"

"Ghads when one deals in slaves one usually doesn't ask for names-!"

She shoved up on the blade. "Name!" she yelled.

"I swear I don't know. He's a count, has a daughter and a wife, but a nasty fascination for humans. When one wants his services he sends word via the Countess Wimberly- that is all I know! Please," he begged. "Don't hurt me. I know no more!"

She drew he knife away. As a second thought though she grabbed the man by his shoulders and rammed her knee into his groin. Edenberge gasped and curled over. Stepping aside she let him fall to the ground, whimpering.

Out in the hall she saw Jareth standing pensively. Behind him was also Bartholomew. She stood there nearly sneering, and then spun on heel and stormed away. Jareth let her go. "Good doctor," he said addressing Bartholomew. "Go and see what ails Lord Edenberge, and strongly advise him to return home first thing in the morning. I shall attend to this other matter."

Sarah had gone to his study. She paced the room in front of the couch like an enraged cat. He could smell her adrenaline and almost hear her accelerated heart beat. Closing the door he waited for her to explain what had happened. "It wasn't him," she exclaimed balling her fists. "Says he bought me from someone, some count. Ghads, I can smell him all over me!"

If Jareth was being completely honest with himself he would have to admit to a degree of pride in her at this moment- she had proven her self fully committed. His pride mixed with his shared frustration. Lord Edenberge was an absolute sonofthebog, but not her rapist. "He shall be sent home immediately," he assured her moving around the couch. He watched her shudder recalling those few intimate moments she had spent in that room.

"Not him!" she yelled again. That was all she could dwell on- he hadn't raped her. Had he been inappropriate- yes. But only because he had been misled. Was he still a pig? Yes. "I had to behave as if I was interested in him. Accept his advances!" She felt rage and arousal all at once.

"Trust me- it was as equally hard to watch."

She stopped mid-pace and turned towards him. Had she wanted she could use that accelerated speed of hers and have her body pressed against his, kissing him. She could imagine his lips- velvet and smooth, accepting her mouth. She would tell him to touch her, to rid her of Lord Philip Edenberge's scent. Then it would be his smell, his scent- wild, free, and full of comfort- that would be all over her. She teetered for a moment, nearly acting on her thought.

Jareth placed a hand to his hip. "Did he say anything else, some sort of clue as to who he had bought you from?"

Shaking her head, trying to rid her self of images of a naked Jareth and Lord Edenberge bleeding like a stuffed pig. "No. Well, wait, yes. He said that when people wanted to inquire about getting a mortal slave, then they sent word via… via Countess Wimberly."

"The countess?" he repeated surprised.

"That's what he said! She may not even know the contents of the messages." She heaved a great sigh. "Well, I hope you've had better luck as of late?"

He shook his head. "Not really." He regarded her for a moment. "Perhaps a walk is in order- it would help to clear your mind."

A walk in the freezing cold night air would do her good. "Just let me get my warm things."

"Allow me." With a wave he pulled her fur lined cloak and a pair of gloves from the air. "Has everyone else retired for the evening?" she asked as he wrapped the cloak around her shoulders.

"Yes. No one knows what happened this evening, save us and Bartholomew."

"Great. Everyone else just thinks I screwed some man-whore." With a chuckle they disappeared from the room.

The night was extremely cold. Both of them breathed out white clouds of moisture as they walked. Sarah focused on all of the cold, drawing it in to her. She needed to calm her self before she thought of any more terribly brash, stupid ideas involving her and Jareth. He needed to sort things out with the Labyrinth. He needed to sort things out with Leslie Wimberly.

The moment that he had walked into his study, his mind had been filled with compromising images. Images of her naked in his wash room blurred over the ones of her pacing. The high of adrenaline and having been in such an overtly sexual situation had heightened her pheromones. It had taken all of his concentration not to become intoxicated. He had hoped that the cold night would serve him well to calm him self, but the sight of Sarah with her hair half down in the glow of the moon was breath taking.

They had reached a rather large tree and she stopped to lean against it, breathing in deep breaths with her eyes closed. At that moment he knew he wanted Sarah Williams. Coming near he braced an arm against the tree and leaned close to her face. "Sarah," he spoke her name in a quiet intimate way.

Without opening her eyes she turned away. "Don't Jareth." She dodged a low branch and moved around the tree.

"No, no don't fend me off now." He spoke in an even direct tone. He moved around the tree, following her.

"There's too much at stake right now," she said stepping over a projecting root.

"You've been waiting for me to make a decision and I have. The thought of you, in that room with that man, was awful, torturous." He stepped over the same root.

She backed away guiding her self around the tree. "But what about Miss Wimberly?" she asked. The cold air had done her good- she was able to think clearer. Unfortunately this side of the tree had a series of low branches- she found her self rather cornered. "She's a sweet kid… naïve, but still… sweet."

Jareth advanced closer. "Leslie Wimberly is only after security. I'm after passion. Seeing the both of you, side by side, made me realize what a fool I've been. I am asking you to trust me," he then said as he saw her hesitation. "The same as I trust you."

"But what if we're wrong? What if…what if this drought gets worse…there are lives at risk-,"

"Shh!" He laid a finger to her lips. "We're not making a mistake here. I give you my word that I will deal with things- deal with them as diplomatically and tactfully as I can. But I cannot," he went on to say his hand moving over her cheek. "go on another day denying myself of you."

Those were the words she been waiting for five years- no, her whole life- to hear him proclaim. He was close, achingly so. The freezing air was no longer her ally; all it did now was prompt her body's heating system to go into over drive.

She realized that he had kissed her. His lips had touched her, slight and quick. It had been like an electric jolt; her shoulders had actually started. Then he kissed her again and she held onto him, kissing back. The last month had been an emotional over load; within his embrace she found her self crying. They were happy tears though. He held her face and kissed her eyes. "Never leave me again," she begged him.

"Never, never, never," he whispered to her. "My precious one, my Sarah." Lifting her close against him he kissed her deep and long. Her body melded to his in a perfect snug fit; the way he had imagined it would.

Kissing him was like experiencing a high; she felt near delirious. "This is crazy," she exclaimed hugging him.

"No, crazy was letting you go five years ago. This," he kissed her cheek and then her forehead. "This is perfection my precious one."

She touched forehead to forehead with him, smiling. "We are going to have to be very careful, act accordingly for a while."

"I shall speak with Leslie first thing in the morning. I simply cannot forgo this delicious experience any longer than I have to. Don't look so serious at me Sarah," he chastised her when she shook her head. "Don't you trust me?"

Here she was with the man who had played a game with her, taunted her, flirted with her, lost her, rescued her, trained her, and had ultimately fallen in love with her. "Intimately," she replied. "Now get me back inside before we both fall ill in this cold."

"One more kiss, precious one. One more and then goodnight."


	14. Chapter 14

**Fourteen**

_Hope dangles on a string  
Like slow spinning redemption  
Winding in and winding out  
The shine of it has caught my eye_

_And roped me in  
So mesmerizing, so hypnotizing  
I am captivated...._

_-"Vindicated" Dashboard Confessional_

1

Something was poking her. Her body told her it was far too early for any sensible person to be up yet. Still the poking persisted. She grunted at it. Poke, poke, poke. Squirming she curled away from it, turning towards the opposite side of the bed. "Lady!" There were very few creatures in the castle that called her that. The blankets shifted and there was an added weight behind her. "Lady wake up!" Slowly opening her eyes she saw Meep leaning over her. "Wake up," the goblin insisted again poking her in the chest.

"What do you want?" She bit each word out distinctly. She had been having lovely dreams, scenarios involving Jareth and her kissing under a star lit sky.

"King wants you for an early breakfast," explained Meep.

Assessing the room Sarah realized just how early it was- the light was still a very dull grey. Her tired mind was not even beginning to comprehend what the goblin was telling her.

"He says come now before he comes in here. No one is up yet lady. Very safe."

Maybe she hadn't just dreamed about them kissing. Her tired mind began to wake up. No, she hadn't very well dreamed all of that. He had kissed her. Repeatedly. She sat up, her tired brain finally catching up. "Where am I to go Meep?"

"King's chambers." The goblin moved aside as Sarah began pushing back the covers.

"Is this such a good idea?" Sarah mused out loud. "What if someone sees me, us? Oh it could cause a mess."

Meep scratched her head perplexed. She certainly didn't see any issue. Both of them left the bed, moving towards her wardrobe. "Lady," she said as Sarah continued to fuss. "It is just breakfast. No one ever got mad over food save for Ursik the Mighty who saved the blessed turnip. Now calm down and let me help you with your dress."

2

He stood looking out the window. The night had passed with very little sleep. He had kissed Sarah! Now suddenly his bed was too large for just him self; now the night seemed wasted in sleep. Absently his own fingers touched his lips remembering the kiss. He could have pounced on her right then and there under the cold sky next to that tree. This morning he had risen early, the same time as his servants, and requested breakfast be brought up to his private study. It was one of the most secluded, private rooms in the castle. Very exclusive.

Moving away from the window he went into the wash room. He changed out of his night clothes and checked his hair in the mirror. Avoiding the halls, he willed his form to the study where he found Weech delivering the food her self, rolling in a small cart. "Mornin' sire," she greeted him with a smile. "One of your guards sends a message to you."

The pillows on his small couch weren't right. "Yes, yes, just leave it on the cart," he replied distracted with rearranging them.

"Anything else sire?"

"Dink is at his post? Good. Let me know the moment anyone stirs. Thank you Weech."

He took a deep breath, smelling the food and coffee, and then examined the room. This little morning encounter had to be special. After five years he wasn't going to risk loosing her again. He waved his hand at one of the windows and the curtains drew slightly back allowing some dim light in. He snapped his fingers towards the fire place- the flames responded, bursting forth a little brighter. Better.

When he heard the knock at the door he felt his heart thump excitedly. She came in wearing a simple blue gown with a green shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair was down, framing her face. Suddenly the food seemed very unnecessary. She was a feast for his senses. How had he been controlling him self this past month? Closing the door he leaned against the frame, hovering over her. Shyly she smiled at him. "Good morning," she breathed.

He inclined his head. "Good morning. So glad you could arrive on such short notice."

"Having you poof in to my room hardly seemed appropriate. I couldn't refuse."

"Appropriate?" His eye brow rose up. "How bad can it be in your room now- a bed, blankets, you in a very soft night gown…"

"Precisely."

He held that eye brow up and then smirked. "I've seen you in far less Sarah." He kissed her, straightening up, pulling her against him.

Last night had definitely not been a dream. This fresh contact reminded her of how alive she had felt last night. Here in the very early hours, alone with him, she tried not think about anything else. She kissed him deeper. His touch matched his scent. The combination was what she had been searching after for five years. One of his hands was in her hair and she felt her body push against his closer. Her heart leapt at the intimate contact. Abruptly he pulled away. "Easy Sarah," he said half heartedly. Her eagerness surprised him. She had after all chastised him about being careful until things were smoothed over.

She breathed in and out- cinnamon and old books with just a trace of cloves. He was intoxicating. "Why? I want this."

He could feel her hands moving over his back. He smiled as he spoke, "Is it such a wise distraction? You continue to kiss me thus and my thoughts shall be less and less appropriate."

It surprised Sarah just how much she did in fact want this, him. "Five years, Jareth," she reminded him. "I got my self into this mess because of how much I wanted you. Besides," she brushed his lips with hers. "You did invite me here, so early, not a soul around."

His arguments were useless- he knew it. Hearing Sarah be so forth right was down right sexy though. "I invited you here to spend some quality time with you," he teased.

"Shut up Jareth," she whispered forcefully. "Five years has softened your libido."

A deep chuckle moved his chest. "Hardly!" He took two swift strides forward, pinning her against the door. The surprised expression across her face was delightful. "I've just been waiting, patiently for the right woman."

Right woman- her mind tried to wrap around that positively wonderful, meaningful phrase. Her sexual tension slipped for a moment, replaced with an oozing sense of adoration. "How long do we have?" she asked her eyes searching his face.

Was her breathing so shallow all ready? His lips turned up in a mischievous grin. "I'd say a good two hours before anyone meaningful is up."

"Good. Plenty of time."

He regarded her. "Hhhmm, for what exactly?"

"For…for our quality time. Must you keep talking?"

She liked the sound of his chuckle- it was tight and amused. "Forgive me- I'm rather auditorialy wired. This," he reached out touching her cheek. She shuddered. "This tension is perhaps the best foreplay I've ever experienced."

Ever- her mind picked that word out. How had it taken five years to reach this point? His hand was moving away from her cheek, sliding its way down over her throat. The movement caused her to breathe faster.

He was kissing her again- slight, feathery kisses that made her head spin. Her eyes closed, lost in the sensation. While he touched her, caressing her body, he asked her private, intimate questions. How much did she want this? Would she let him put his hand here or there? She answered. Whatever it took to ensure he wouldn't stop.

When the air breezed over her and she then felt her self falling backwards, she clutched the fabric of his shirt. He had moved them from the door, to the couch using his magic. Pillows and cushions supported her back. His face hidden against her neck, his body pressing against hers, he whispered, "Is this how you like it?"

She shook her head. The question did not sound right. "Wwwhat?"

His lips pulled on her ear lob. "Is this how you like it?"

That question was not right. Some one else had asked her that same question. She inhaled- cinnamon and old books. The scene flashed in her mind- the couch in the Aboveground room; the man parading as her professor; hands bruising her hips- he had asked the same question. The question had been a sneer. As if humans liked sex to be dirty, to be forceful. "Stop!" she yelled. Her hands had shoved against him, pushing as far she could reach. Her body twisted away from him. "Stop! Stop!" She was afraid. Terrified. Those words; those awful, awful words.

Jareth sat stunned for a moment. He moved as she continued to twist away from him. "Sarah?" he asked not comprehending her sudden change.

With an awkward thud she fell off the small couch. "No, no," she mumbled her voice choking.

"Sarah? Sarah whatever is it? I'm not going to hurt you."

They were both on the floor now. He was trying to subdue her. What had he done? What had he said? He managed to hold onto her wrists. "Let me go! I won't let it happen again!"

"What happen again?" A reason for her out burst occurred to him. "Sarah, it is me- Jareth. Look at me Sarah!" Using more excessive force than he was comfortable with, he held her back against the edge of the couch. Her eyes were spilling over with tears. "It's just me," his tone soft.

Her breathing came in giant heaves. She began to sob. "I…A memory…What you said….what you said triggered a memory." She threw herself against him, hiding her face. "He had said those same words right before…before he-,"

"Before he raped you," Jareth finished for her. He thought a long, rushed train of curses and expletives. "I am so sorry Sarah; I didn't know. I would never have said those words had I known."

"I know, I know," she assured him.

She felt him kiss her head. "We don't have to do this right now. We can stop right here. Is that what you need? Never mind about me, precious one. I will survive," he then added with a smile. He shifted looking at her face. The memory had caused her a good deal of pain. With a sigh he patted her back.

They ate breakfast quietly. Her out burst as the result of the memory had both embarrassed her and angered her. She had wanted that moment with Jareth. Wanted it badly. She wasn't going to feel vindicated though until her attacker was named and dealt with properly. She hoped Jareth understood this. Being intimate with him was going to take time.

When she left over an hour later he reminded her that he was still going to speak with Leslie Wimberly. "I want my plate clear so I can concentrate on you," he informed her. "It is time I live the life that I want." Left alone in his study he leaned against the door and sighed. A familiar sound, like a distant voice reached his ears. It had a calming effect. "Speaking to me again are you?" he asked the air. The voices of the Labyrinth made some pleased sound. He went to the window and parted the curtains to their full extent. The view of the land was vast and wide. "You've been very quiet for very long. Too long." The sound was almost like an apology; one made with a shrug. "What brings you out of hiding?" The reflection in the window bubbled as if turned to liquid. The image that appeared was of a man- Count Wimberly. The image faded to black. Count Wimberly was no more. When an image appeared again it was one of a young seedling, barely bursting forth from the soil. Jareth felt his brow knit together. What in the name of the Blessed Moon was the Labyrinth trying to tell him this time?


	15. Chapter 15

**Fifteen **

1

Sarah needed to work off some excess energy. At the moment she had everything from an attentive libido, building rage, annoying embarrassment, and a gnawing frustration carousing their way through her system. In the recreational room, Puck had hardly lifted the lid on the knife box before she made her selection and was hurtling the points at the practice dummy. The suspended wooden man jerked and swayed with each hit.

2

Jareth found Leslie in the library. She was in one of the large, comfy chairs reading a book. He had to admit to him self that she looked so annoyingly content and naively happy, that he positively loathed the prospect of causing her distress. Of course it was unavoidable. Jareth was determined to begin the life he wanted.

"Leslie-," he began to say only to be interrupted by a knock at the door.

3

From the top of the stairs Sir Didymus watched his young friend practice. Every few throws she would let out a vicious snarl. Thoughtfully he combed his whiskers with his fingers. The details of how his lady had been returned to the Labyrinth, the realm of the Underground were unknown to him. He understood it to be a sensitive subject and had thought best not to pry. Yet he could not ignore her frequent displays of sheer anger. 'Nearly blood lust,' he mused. What was causing his lady such pain?

4

"Come in!" he ordered the individual into the library.

Glancing back at Leslie, he saw her smile at him and place a marker in her book.

A goblin peered inside. "Excuse me sire, but two letters have arrived: one for Miss Wimberly and one for you." With a bow the goblin left.

Having looked at the script Leslie's face turned concerned, "Excuse me Jareth, but would you mind if I read this now?"

"Certainly." 'It will give me time to rethink how I am going to have this conversation,' he added in his thoughts.

As she broke the seal on her letter, he turned his attention to his own. His letter was simple enough- Leslie's father would not be arriving until the day before the ball which was now in ten days time. In ten days he could have the ball called off. He could have Leslie and the countess packed, tucked inside a carriage, and out the door. Simple. He looked at Leslie- her back was turned to him. Simple aside from hurting her.

5

Sir Didymus sniffed becoming aware of another presence near by. Looking over his shoulder he saw the physician approaching. "Greetings noble knight," said Bartholomew.

"Hale good healer! And how dost thou fair today?"

"Oh, well enough. You?"

"Fair enough. Though," here the little fox nodded over the banister. "My lady's well fair does trouble me some."

"Ah Lady Sarah." He stood next to the fox. His tone had held something like concern and his eyes were soft as he watched her retrieve her knives. "Yes, she has been on my mind as of late as well."

Didymus' whiskers twitched. "I should never want to pry where my lady has not invited me," he said thoughtfully. "But I wish that there was something I could do to ease her current state."

Bartholomew nodded. "She is most definitely agitated."

"And there is more to it then her relationship with the king… blasted peaches," he added in a curt murmur.

"Pardon?"

"It is nothing," he quickly amended.

Bartholomew glanced from the recreation room's floor to the knight. "You knew Lady Sarah during her first visit here, didn't you?"

The fox nodded. "Yes. I swore to protect her that day. I-I will continue to protect her. Why Bartholomew- how come thou lookest at me so intently?"

The physician's eyes had narrowed. "Hhhmm," he made the sound thoughtfully. "Sir Didymus you are known for having a keen sense of smell. While the majority may disagree with you over what smells appealing…."

"…I happen to like the bog…"

"…Indeed, but it is known that you can sniff anything out. I came here to find your good lady and discuss a matter with her. The out come of my conversation with her may prove your talent," he tapped the fox's nose poignantly. "most useful. Will you wait here?"

Didymus squared his shoulders. "Of course."

At the base of the stairs Bartholomew waited until Sarah's hands were empty of her knives before he made his presence known. He applauded her progress. She sort of glared at him and then shrugged. "My progress is of little significance if I cannot put it to good use," she bit out.

He put a hand on her shoulder. "It gives you a good and useful outlet. You are growing into a wonderfully strong fae Sarah Williams." He squeezed her shoulder.

"Thank you Bartholomew. What brings you down to the recreational room?"

"You. I need to discuss some delicate details with you."

Sarah watched as he reached into a hidden pocket inside his jacket and pulled forth to vials. Each one was filled with a clear substance. Some how she knew what they were- her stomach knotted. She looked questioningly at the physician. "Every time I come to you, I seem to be the bearer of bad news. You were raped. You are no longer human. You are possibly pregnant," he ticked them off in an almost apathetic way. "I would like to bring you some news that would be beneficial."

She eyed the vials. "So what's the point of them?"

"His majesty has informed me of the unique situation you find your self in, having been violated by two men. I have been working for the past month on separating each one's…personal DNA."

"Their semen," she stated the obvious. Sarah gulped and tightened her jaw. Could it be possible? Could the answer to her prayers be in these two tiny vials? "Are you able to determine whose is whose?"

Bartholomew held up one. "You were right in accosting Lord Edenberge- his fluids were found on you. Please note I said on, not in."

Sarah nodded. Edenberge had told the truth.

He raised the second vial. "This was found inside you. Whoever it belongs to though does not wish to be discovered. There is a strong spell at work here that prevents one from discovering the identity. Their DNA is guarded."

"Why would someone do that?"

"My guess is that the individual has a nasty habit of… violating women. He can have his devious fun and never be caught."

This was hardly good news. Why had Bartholomew chosen to tell her? And particularly this morning? Sarah was in no decent mood and this news was not helping. "So… what then? Is there any hope?"

The smile that turned up Bartholomew's lips was small yet kind. "Smell is the one tell-all factor that no amount of magic can take away. It may be faint, diluted even, but a scent will linger."

Sarah drew her head back and wrinkled her nose. "You want me to smell it?" she asked.

"I came looking for you to ask of you just that, but I have found someone with a far keener sense of smell than either you or I could boast."

"Who?"

He glanced towards the second floor.

Sarah's eyes widened. "Didymus."

"He has already agreed to offer his services; he waits for your approval." With a nod from Sarah, Bartholomew signaled Didymus to join them below.

The little knight walked with a slow, steady pace looking dignified. He wanted to appear as supportive and understanding as possible. He knew not the specifics of what his lady had suffered, but he knew them to be a harsh experience and he hated the pain he knew her to be in. With a twitch of his nose he said, "My lady I am at your service." And he bowed.

"Didymus, my noble knight, my good friend, what we are about to ask of you is…," she paused. Taking a deep breath she continued, "It is revolting. I would not ask this of you if there was another way."

With a deep concern for his lady in his eyes Didymus looked to the physician to explain the situation. "From the contents of these two vials I need you to tell us who you smell."

"Who? Not what?"

"Who," insisted Sarah quietly.

Didymus' lips parted in a momentary hesitation. "For thee, anything," he said softly, taking hold of one of the offered vials.

6

Leslie was looking at him with eyes full of trust. Gently he took her by the shoulders. "Why Jareth, whatever is it?" she pressed.

'Be cruel, be sardonic, be everything of the opposite of what you have been; run her off; get her out! Just get this over with!'

For the past few years he had entertained her, encouraged her, and been to her everything that was false. She deserved a happy union, her own future as much as he did. She would do another fae man justice. "Leslie, we must talk you and me."

"Yes, we must," she agreed refolding her letter.

Jareth couldn't find it within him self to be cruel. "We have had some fine times together, have we not? I know you to be an honorable woman. Leslie I-," he was interrupted by someone pounding on the door. "The bog take whoever you are," he muttered rolling his eyes frustrated at being interrupted a second time. "Come in! Sarah!" he exclaimed surprised when she entered the room.

Sarah's stomach was in knots and she felt sweat moistening the back of her neck. She had run from the recreational room the moment Sir Didymus had sniffed the vial. The information she now held was of vast importance. Holding to the door for support she spoke as evenly as possible, "Your majesty, forgive me, but I must speak with you." She glanced from Jareth to Leslie praying to all the powers that be that he had not spoken with her yet.

"Lady Sarah, I am in the middle of something most important. Wait for me in my study," he replied evenly. He tried to tell her with his eyes what he was ready to do.

"Sire, I must insist. Please," she pleaded.

He released Leslie. "Excuse us my dear," he told her and followed Sarah out of the room.

Had Sarah's expression not have been so flushed, Jareth might have snapped at her. At her request for privacy he took her across the hall to another room. What could possibly be more important right now than ending things with Leslie? "Sarah, you are shaking," he said noticing her hands. He took them in his own soothing them.

"I know," she muttered her voice cracking. "I know. I know now."

There was a wild look to her eyes. He was reminded of her out burst this morning, and a great fear clutched his heart. "Sarah?"

"Jareth I know! I know who my attacker is!"

His face grew stern. "Who?"

"You must promise to leave me my vengeance," she said tightening her hands around his. Her brow furrowed. "You must promise!"

"It is yours alone to execute, whoever it may be. But tell me Sarah!"

"And you must promise to show no partiality. This is one man's sin!"

"By the Seven Graces and the Full Moon- will you just say his name already?"

Releasing his hands, she drew a deep breath and said, "Count Wimberly."


	16. Chapter 16

**Sixteen**

Jareth felt his breath exhale sharply in a low hiss. Abruptly he turned from Sarah. Did she realize what she was implying? He, Jareth King of the Goblins and Ruler of the Labyrinth had been making deals with a debased, foul vermin! Count Wimberly! His jaw tightened. Was the whole family in on it? Did the countess and her daughter know of such matters? No wonder Sarah had made him promise to behave accordingly. At the moment he wanted to barge through to the library and shake Leslie until she cried. 'I'll string'em all up by their toes over the bog,' he thought darkly. 'Then I'll slit their wrists and let them bleed out slowly. I'll stuff his corpse and use him as scarecrow!' His hands fisted in anger.

"You promised," came Sarah's voice quietly.

He spun around. "Are you sure of yourself?" he questioned her tersely.

"Bartholomew and Sir Dydimus are witnesses to the fact." She told him of the conversation she had with the good physician in the recreational room and then of the noble knight's involvement. "You must still treat Leslie kindly."

"How am I supposed treat anyone kindly," he snapped.

"I don't believe she knows. Call it a woman's intuition," she explained with a shrug. After a pause she added, "I think the ball should go on as scheduled."

"Of course," he turned away again. "How else will you be able to get close to him? Yes, the ball shall go on. I must find a way now though to ensure that Leslie won't go running to her father alerting him of the changes- that could cause us great harm."

He felt her hand on his arm. "You could not break off your tentative engagement."

"What?" he exclaimed facing her again.

Her face was calm as she spoke, "Make her believe that all is well. In ten days I can deal with Count Wimberly and you can send the countess and her daughter home without another glance."

"Sarah, are you mad? That is devilishly cruel!" He couldn't help the smirk that tightened his lips. "And geniusly dark."

"Go back to her," she went on. "Talk to her about good things; let her believe the lie. For ten more days, let us behave as good friends."

"Very well," he conceded, though she could tell it was done near grudgingly. "I shall have Meep bring you to my study later tonight when the Wimberly's have gone to bed. We shall discuss tactics then. I should return to her now." He breathed deep, forcing his anger down. When he looked at Sarah again, saw her calmness and determination he drew her close to him. "You shall make a fine goblin queen Sarah mine. We shall only be good friends in public." With a kiss that left her knees shaking, he returned to the library.

Sarah did not want to know the details of Jareth's conversation with Leslie. Dinner passed politely with discussion around the impending arrival of several more guests. No one was scowling or red eyed from crying, or making snide remarks. The countess, the king, and the young lady all behaved as if things were normal. By the time dessert was brought out, the level of politeness was such that Sarah found her self becoming mildly curious what Jareth had in fact told Leslie.

Complaining about a headache she retired early to her room. In truth her mind felt full, and the constant pretending was just too much for her. What appeared to be an easy façade for Jareth was proving to be much harder on her psyche. Yet she had been the one to suggest this plan of action. In the light of the fire place she rolled her eyes. Her attacker had been named, but now an innocent bystander was going to be hurt in the scuffle. Of course then there was also the Labyrinth to consider- would the massive entity survive this change of events? Would the kingdom survive?

When Meep arrived she had the goblin help her change out of her stiff, courtly dress. She wanted comfort for the rest of the evening; to just be Sarah Williams without title or expectations. The passage ways were very quiet as Meep led her to Jareth's study. "King not here yet," explained the goblin. "Would you like company? Boys and I have been practicing with chickens!"

Sarah could sense the hopeful enthusiasm. "Alright. I'd love to see your performance."

She watched as Meep then dove under the sofa. There was a rustling noise and several slurred words. It was feat enough to see four goblins pop out from underneath, but an even greater surprise to see two chickens as well. Sarah didn't even want to begin to figure out how they had stashed chickens under the sofa. In a chaotic display of limbs and feathers the goblins had their pyramid constructed with Meep on top. Two chickens were balance in each of her hands. Sarah was laughing and applauding their improvement when Jareth entered. "Oh bother," he muttered seeing them.

The chickens squawked.

"Meep, if I find out you've stashing chickens in my study again-," he threatened leaning over them.

One of the goblins on the bottom grunted. "Just wanted to show lady!"

"You have to admit," said Sarah calming her self. "It is an impressive feat."

"Yes, very impressive until you realize that a hen has laid an egg among your seat cushions," complained Jareth. "No more demonstrations tonight lads and lasses. Come on- be off with you! No, you may not practice with the hog inside the kitchen. Keep that business outside." With the door shut he sighed. "Of all the past times they could have become interested in," he mumbled. "Acrobatic Animals!" He heard Sarah giggle from the sofa. He rolled his eyes.

She could tell he was rather put-out. "They're gone now," she said offering her hands to him. "Come, sit with me. It has been a long day," she commented when he sighed again.

"Hhhmm, yes, we've both been on an emotional roller coaster today, and it's not over yet."

His tone seemed suggest something more. "What happened today with Leslie? Does she suspect anything?"

Leaning back and stretching out his legs he said, "She has nothing to suspect. The dear thing, well, she broke up with me."

"What?" exclaimed Sarah, stunned.

Jareth snorted in mild amusement. "I went back to her this morning to some how smooth things over and go on as if nothing had changed, just like you and I had talked about, and she says to me, 'Jareth, dear, I don't think we should marry.' Just like that!"

"Did, did she give you any reason?"

"None. She says she will stay though until the end of the ball- 'It'll be less awkward for both of us', she says- and then," he paused shrugging. "go on her merry way."

Sarah leaned back, massaging her forehead. "It boggles the mind," she commented.

"I know. My tired brain is having trouble processing all of it. Prior to you coming here, Leslie was determined to become a part of the goblin kingdom; determined to be my queen. I cannot fathom what caused her to change so abruptly."

"Unless the kid has finally had her fill of goblins."

"Kid? You keep calling her that. Really my dear she's about your age in human terms."

"Which says nothing about her level of maturity. She is a kid."

He turned his head to look at her. "Not everyone has your whit and strength my precious one." Raising his hand he stroked her cheek.

"So now what?"

"Well it changes nothing. She's willing to stay and behave cordially until the ball is over, so we behave accordingly as well. Then the Goblin City will begin making preparations to receive their rightful queen."

"Do you," she paused. She hated to bring the next subject up seeing as he was trying to relax and enjoy her company. "Do you think," she began again attempting to keep voice steady. "that the Labyrinth will accept me? Your subjects may want me, but what of the Labyrinth?"

"This will work out Sarah," he interrupted her worries. Taking her face in both of his hands he continued, "We are doing the right thing. The Labyrinth is a caring creature; protective of those who live within its paths."

"Has it told you any more?"

"A few very cryptic messages, but not a single warning about my pursuit of you. The Labyrinth would not waste your return; you are its champion! Aye, my precious one, we are doing the right thing. Listen for its voice Sarah, for it may try to communicate with you." Gently he kissed her forehead. "Let us not waste this time together with worrying. Come near to me my precious one." Resting against his chest, Jareth felt her relax.

The following days were a rush of preparation for the ball. Every servant was about their job from cleaning to shoe polishing to the delicate art of candle molding. The elf replacements were not mentioned again. Sarah watched the two Wimberly women for reactions. Leslie seemed unaffected, lost as it were in her private thoughts. The countess was so rigid that Sarah thought she was going to some vital organ damage.

Before dinner every evening Sarah would find time for her self in the recreational room with Sir Dydimus to practice throwing. As soon as the Wimberly's had retired Meep would come for her and she would pass a few hours with Jareth in his study. Those few precious hours in the night helped her. With every encounter she found her body trusting in him more and more. Yet still they remained innocent to the other. "How do you sleep?" she asked one night.

"Generally on my back," he replied with a faint smile.

She laughed. "No, what I mean is, with everything going on what with the ball and the Wimberlys, and then us spending late nights together; all of the self control you practice, it must be impossible for you to shut your mind off."

"Well, how do you sleep knowing that in less than three days time you may be slitting a man's throat?"

Shrugging she replied, "I just do."

"Exactly. I just do. Don't concern yourself over whether or not my…carnal needs are being met. I am happy waiting for you. There are times I think that waiting until we have hand-fasted might just be the better thing; making our first time together the safest and easiest. Sarah, are you blushing?" he suddenly asked with amusement. He held her chin and made her look at him. "Whatever is that for?"

Her green eyes flittered around his face avoiding his eyes. "It's just… the way you talk about it, it's nearly sentimental. It's such a different attitude towards sex than what I'm used to."

She felt his thumb caress her skin. He leaned close. "Never doubt for a moment that I could pounce on you in a heart beat the moment you were to let your guard down. I may know how to sleep at night, my precious one, yet it doesn't stop my mind from giving me dreams; delicious scenarios involving us." He kissed her forehead and then the tip of her nose. "Where our carnal desires are most assuredly being taken care of."

She moved to get a better look at him. His eyes were hooded and his lips were slightly parted. "There is definitely a villain that lurks in you," she remarked coyly.

"Aye, good lady, and he awaits your invitation." Despite his comment about hand-fasting had she relented at that very moment, the idea would have been cast aside. Self-control was one thing; self-denial quite another. He sensed her hesitation. "But until," he felt her take an unsteady breath. "you are ready, I can and will manage. There is still," he leaned away. "that one small, fragile portion of your mind that I will not risk hurting."

"If we were to wait until we were married, I could mentally prepare myself."

"Anything to avoid being pushed off my own bed again," he said dryly.

"Then marry me Jareth," she said with a sweet smile. "And we can have a life time of satisfying one another."

That night she dreamed that she was in the forest where she had met the Fire Gang. Rain fell about her in huge, laden drops splashing on her face and hair. She danced among the trees. She was soaked through and delightfully happy.


	17. Chapter 17

**Seventeen**

There were voices around the bend. Unhappy voices.

Sarah paused along the garden path she was on. She had been spending the afternoon walking in the crisp late autumn air, admiring the statues and fountains that were on display. It was the day before the ball, and Count Wimberly's impending arrival had her on edge. She had been walking briskly, letting the cold air nip at her agitation. Ahead and to the right was a pagoda with the remains of a vine twisting around its support beams, and from there the voices emitted.

"You worthless git!" snarled a man's voice. A girl whimpered.

It wasn't the violent force behind the tone that made Sarah hesitate, but rather it was the very voice its self. She knew that voice. Her hand fumbled to lean against a wall. She experienced a rush of anxiety so fierce that nausea hit her strong in the pit of her stomach. Heaving she fought the urge to vomit. The back of her mouth tasted acidic.

The man went on, "I should have left you in solitary confinement at home. Can't even perform the simple task of keeping the Goblin King's interest," he complained. There was a clapping sound, as if flesh had smacked flesh, and the girl cried out. "Shut up!" he ordered. "You want everyone to know!"

Sarah breathed deep. She no longer saw the garden, but a low lit room with mundane furniture: a grey couch, a silver lamp, and the scent of old books and cinnamon in the air. A man was next to her; his hands were on her. Where was his face? She pushed the memory of her self out of the way- there he was! Professor Alexander Wimberly! The count! She took another deep breath. His voice had triggered his face and his name.

"You are going to put this to rights," Wimberly continued. "I don't care what you think," he snapped when the girl tried to interrupt. "You will reestablish yourself with Jareth."

Without another thought or concern for who might be with the count, she reached her hand in to the hidden compartment and drew out her dagger. The sheath was warm against the palm of her hand. Moving rapidly she rounded the bend to confront the man. She teetered in alarm to find Leslie Wimberly quietly crying by her self.

The shuffling of her feet drew Leslie's attention. She half turned, uttered a surprise, and covered her face. "Oh! Oh Lady Williams," she spurted. "Pray excuse me!"

Sarah blinked and shook her head. She had been ready to slay the girl's father before her very eyes. Then she recalled the sound of the cracking slap- had her father been abusing her? She took a breath to steady her self. "Leslie, are you all right?"

The girl shuddered. "Yes," she choked out. "Please," she turned her face away. "Please just let me be."

"You lie," Sarah stated drawing near. "You are unwell or hurt."

"I-I'm just a klutz, Lady Williams. I-I fell just now, and scraped my cheek. It is nothing," she insisted, pulling away when Sarah touched her shoulder.

Sarah had trusted her intuition about Leslie from the beginning: she was a naïve, immature kid, but she was also being manipulated. "Leslie," she said softly. "I heard."

The girl stiffened.

"And you can trust me to be discreet."

"Discreet?" snapped Leslie. She spun around: her lower lip bled and her right eye was swollen. "You try making these discreet," she said indicating her injuries.

In shock Sarah stared for a moment. In Leslie's face she saw her self the day Jareth had found her at court. How long had Leslie been Count Wimberly's preferred punching bag? "At least allow me to offer you some first aid," she offered. "We'll go inside one of back ways and pass through unnoticed. Leslie," she continued stepping close. Leslie's eyes caught sight of something that startled her and she drew away. "What is it?"

"Do you always carry a knife?"

Her dagger- she had forgotten all about it. "I drew it when I heard the shouting," Sarah explained. Turning away she slid the weapon back into the concealed compartment. "One… one can never be too careful. Come inside with me." With a sense of dignity that was admirable, Leslie held her head up and walked with her inside.

The most convenient back way was through the kitchen. At the table sat Weech with another goblin spit polishing some silver canisters. Sarah leaned Leslie against the outside wall and stepped in to clear the room. "Weech, I need you to take some tea and hot water up to my chamber. Never you mind, just go. Be scarce by the time I mount the stairs." Outside Leslie looked pale. "Can you manage to keep walking?"

"I think so. My head is killing me. By the Seven Graces!" she exclaimed as she swayed forward.

Sarah caught her and steadied her. "Come on. Inside. There you go. Jewels!"

Jareth's man servant Jewels, encompassed the entire entrance to the kitchen with his massive frame. He gazed at the two women with concern. "My lady," he made an awkward bow.

Leslie swayed again. "Help!" ordered Sarah.

"Bartholomew should be called for," Jewels said taking on Leslie's weight. The woman was barely holding onto her consciousness.

"No, no, this needs to be kept quiet Jewels. Take her up to my chamber. She'll recover soon enough. Trust me Jewels, please."

Sarah could tell that Jewels was very uncomfortable. He wanted to alert the physician, his king, and Leslie's mother as well. She couldn't have that. Not yet. She had promised discretion to Leslie and she was determined to do so. Leslie regained her color after she had some tea. Sarah took a rag and soaked it in the warm water, and applied it to the swelling around her face. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the massive man fidget. "Jewels, you will not say anything. Do you understand me?" She tried to sound threatening.

The man nodded. "My king will sense it soon enough."

With a sigh Sarah knew this to be true. Leslie gasped. "He must not know!" she exclaimed. "He of all people must not know!"

"She smells like you did," Jewels added distractedly. "If I can sense it, he will too."

"What does he mean, like you did?" questioned Leslie.

It was Sarah turn to fidget. She avoided Leslie's eyes. "I have known your father's wrath as well. I was fortunate enough to be found by Jareth."

"Found?"

It was far too complicated a thing to explain at the moment. "I… never mind. The point is Leslie, is that your father can no longer go unchecked. He has hurt you before hasn't he?" She nodded once. "I figured." She leaned near. "Will you trust me Leslie to do the right thing? If I send Jewels right now to get King Jareth will you allow him to do you justice?"

The girl's eyes were drawn taunt in thought. "Yes," she finally answered.

Jewels left the room quickly. Sarah prayed to all the powers that be that Jareth still had enough patience in reserve to handle this with dignity. He was already spread thin, just as thin as she was, and this could quite possibly break him. He could explode, drag Count Wimberly to some hidden room, and fashion macabre jewelry out of his genitals. As fitting as that punishment would be, it would hardly be fair to Leslie to act without her consent. She was going to need her own brand of retribution as well. If testicle earrings suited her liking… Her train of thought was interrupted by knocking. "Who is it?"

"It is Jewels, my lady."

Seeing the two men enter was a relief. Jareth had an eyebrow cocked curiously. Her face must have been intense for he said, "You look as if you could spit ice that would burn as fire- whatever is wrong?"

A low, hardly audible rumble moved through the air, as if some unseen force was supporting her determination. "The Labyrinth as my witness, that man shall die." Startled he glanced from her to Leslie.

What had happened? Everything had been transpiring at a peaceful, even pace. Sarah was far too angry and something was wrong with Leslie. These two things he sensed immediately. Then there had been the rumble- only the Labyrinth sounded like that. And Leslie wouldn't look at him- she kept her face turned away. "Go to her," he heard Sarah say. As he moved near he got the distinct sensation that Leslie wanted to run away. Her hands actually clasped and clasped the arm rests. "Leslie?" he asked. He knelt in front of her when she refused to answer. "Leslie," he said again in a quiet compelling voice. She turned her face fully towards him. The swelling, the bruising, the scab on her lip- it brought back that horrible day he had found Sarah. Taking a deep breath he gently touched her face. The breath brought a scent with it. "No," he breathed, retreating his hand in alarm. "No."

"It's the same man Jareth," Sarah said.

Instead of becoming uncontrollably enraged, his face fell in shock. "Oh Leslie," he murmured despondently. "But why?"

She glanced warily at Sarah and then with hesitance answered, "Because I wouldn't marry you."

Jareth could feel Sarah behind him. They had agreed to behave accordingly, though his next words would likely sting. "Then agree to marry me Leslie. Be mine and stay your father's anger."

Leslie sniffed. "I don't love you Jareth. You don't love me. I've been denying my self for so long," her eyes wandered from his to Sarah's. "And it's not right. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I can't go back to you."

"Your highness," said Sarah tapping his shoulder. "I need to discuss something with you. Now." She wandered to the far side of the room. He joined her. "She needs to know," she whispered.

Jareth ran a hand through his hair. "She has to decide that she is ready for it to stop."

"Jareth, this is more than just about retribution. Her father, he is involved in terribly debase activities. Add to the rape charge, the fact he beats his daughter, and the human trafficking is like a cherry on top."

He pulled her closer and lowered his voice even more. "Human trafficking?" he questioned.

"Lord Edenberge suggested that the count was in the business of finding and distributing human girls. I am not his first and if this isn't put an end to, I won't be his last."

"This is beyond Leslie and beyond you now."

"Given the opportunity," her eyes had that icy edge again. "I cannot promise that I will not strike."

"Nor would I chastise you to do otherwise, but I would caution you to use prudence." He glanced back at Leslie- Jewels had refilled her tea cup. "He should be standing before a court with the high king to judge his actions."

"So do we tell her?"

"Enough so that she comprehends the depth of her father's debauchery, no more. I'll heal her wounds so she can appear in public again. In the mean time I have less than a day to convince the high king to attend this ball."


	18. Chapter 18

_I know that everyone has been waiting very patiently for updates and I appreciate the comments and encouragements. Trust me, with this chapter, the wait will be considered well worth it._

**Eighteen**

Sarah knew she had to be dreaming again. She was wearing the same sheer night gown and was standing near the crumbled granite chair in the midst of the court yard. The air was alive with electricity that caused the hair on her arms to prickle. She glanced around- Jareth was no where to be seen this time though. Looking up she saw the sky: it was no longer filled with stars, but bulging with thick slate grey clouds.

Quite suddenly the Wiseman appeared at the opposite end of the court yard. His bird/hat was asleep, snoring. "Come," he told her, beckoning her with his hands.

She followed him through the hedges into the wilder parts of the Labyrinth. The trees around her raised spares limbs to the sky as if they were trying to puncture the clouds and release their rain. She thought to her self that she was probably near the forest of the Firies- she fancied that she did not really desire an encounter with them. Still the Wiseman led her on.

Finally he stopped in a small clearing. In a display of un-natural strength he had her gripped by the waist and was tossing her high into the air. The electrical currents sped over her body as she flew towards the clouds, growing and stretching like a thriving seedling. Her fingers reached the clouds and the moisture filled membrane broke sending large drops of water splashing over her.

Laughter erupted from her in absolute joy. She looked down at the Labyrinth beneath her being bathed in the rain. The effect on the land was instantaneous- leaves burst forth and limbs began to stretch. The land was green and wet; the land was alive.

Sarah awoke with a smile on her face. She felt absolutely thrilled to her very core. Had that been the Labyrinth's way of communicating with her? Stumbling from the bed, she ran to her window and threw back the curtains, letting the cold night air in. The land that greeted her was still parched and near barren, yet there was something, just on the horizon, waiting. She knew it.

The urge to run outside, to be among the twists and turns was overwhelming. She knew that the hour was late. Or was that early? She glanced at the clock over her fire place- it was one o'clock in the morning. Jareth would scold her something fierce for going out alone in the dark and cold, and what if she ran into another guest? The possibility of having an encounter with Count Wimberly made her stomach turn.

A low rumble moved under her feet. She knew that feeling; she had felt it recently when dealing with Leslie. It was the Labyrinth. A wide smile spread her lips and the floor moved again. "Okay, okay," she said out loud. "Let me put on some warm things."

It was the day of the ball. Matters concerning the Wimberly's, the high king, revenge, all seemed trivial to her at the moment. She just wanted to be outside. Having pulled on thick stockings and shoes and finding her thick clock and gloves she stepped out into the quiet hall not realizing that she still was wearing her night gown. Her mind was full of the twists and turns of the maze, and she had to be among them.

The night air kissed her face and caused her heart to race. She had successfully found her way down stairs and had passed through the kitchen without having seen, or even smelled, another soul. Where was she going? The thought made her hesitate. She hardly knew her way around every twist and turn- what if she got lost? The ground rumbled and propelled her closer to the walls of the Labyrinth. With a smile she set off at a light jog disappearing into the shadows that played with the moon light.

The rumblings led her through the maze, coaxing her deeper in. The Labyrinth had showed her path and she took to it eagerly. With every turn she felt more alive than ever. Her body was tingling, with blood and oxygen; unseen magic filled her senses. The scent of water filled her lungs.

Bursting forth into the granite court yard was the equivalent of being reborn; she gulped air and stared at her surroundings. This time the rumbling moved the very air and sent the hairs on her arms up and down rapidly. "You delightful creature you," she said addressing the maze. "Do you really want me? Am I really what you desire?" The ground under her swayed and she moved as if a giant wave had passed under her feet.

With a laugh she moved about the court yard, dancing with the rumblings. Knowing now that not only the king, but the land wanted her as well was freeing to her mind and body. She was on a high. Heat radiated from her center out, leaving her excited and breathless. The sensation was near sexual. If Jareth were to step out of the shadows she really wasn't certain if she could control….She inhaled sharply.

Jareth had indeed stepped out of the shadows, and she danced right in to his waiting hands. His eyes regarded her curiously and a slight smile played the corners of his mouth. She swallowed hard: he too looked as if he had just stumbled out of bed. The memories of those first few mornings waking next to him played through her mind; his sheets twisted around both of them.

Running his fingers over hers, Jareth considered what he was going to do next. He had been suffering from a case of insomnia: tomorrow (or rather today) was going to be a large event and his brain refused to shut down. After everything- the ball, the confrontation with the Wimberly's, the fitting retribution for both Leslie and Sarah- then he could concentrate on having a proper hand fasting ceremony with Sarah. Then it wouldn't matter what the Labyrinth did or didn't say; she would be his and that would be the end of it. He knew in his heart that she was the rightful queen of the Underground.

At that moment the ground had rumbled nearly knocking him from his chair in front of the fire place. Looking out his window, feeling the cold night air, he had surveyed the land wondering what the Labyrinth wanted at this time of night. Then he saw her: a small figure running through the maze, knowingly moving around twists and turns. Watching her trace her path he could smell moisture on the air. The low rumbled moved again and he grabbed his warm things and headed outside.

Finding that Sarah had not been a vision, but really there running through the maze had surprised him. Getting a better look at her he realized that she still had on her night gown under her warm things; her hair was messy, and her cheeks were pink. She was very real, and very alluring. "Did it call you out here?" he asked curious.

Absently she licked her lips. "Yes." She felt her stomach twitch. The Labyrinth had to be behind all of this: getting both of them into its center. "You as well?"

His throat felt dry. "Yes."

Still riding on her high, she leaned close to him. "Does the Labyrinth always want what you want?" she asked. Her heart thumped loudly.

Jareth eyed the air around him, considering what he had been thinking about before the maze had interrupted his thoughts. "If I say, yes, does that change anything?"

She kissed him brief yet gentle on the lips. "If you say yes, then you had better find a way to hand fast with me tonight." She heard him make some intense, strangled noise deep in the back of his throat, and then felt his lips on his hers. She pushed her self against him even as he held onto her.

"My precious one," he murmured close to her lips. "You would commit your body to me this night? You would do this now?"

"I would do this the right way. We are all in agreement now- you, me, the Labyrinth." He interrupted her with another kiss. He was taking her breath away. "I don't want to wait Jareth. It must be tonight."

"It must be now." He held her face and kissed her forehead. "No pomp and circumstance needed; a simple blessing of our union. Come, hold tight to my arm. One, two, three-," they stepped hurriedly and disappeared from the maze.

When they reappeared Jareth made for a door at the end of the hallway. They were at the physician's quarters. He rapped on the door all the while keeping Sarah close to his side. She with rumpled clothes and tousled hair was the sexiest thing to him. Bartholomew would do well to bless their union- his standing as a medical professional and a long time member of the royal house hold would suffice. He knocked again, impatient. A bleary-eyed Bartholomew appeared brushing hair from his eyes. "W-what? Your majesty!" he exclaimed registering who was before him.

Jareth wasted no time. "I need you to perform a hand fasting."

Bartholomew hesitated. Jareth rolled his eyes- Bartholomew still thought that he had intentions towards Leslie Wimberly- and brought Sarah into view. "Surely you cannot object?" he asked coyly.

"Thank the powers that be," Bartholomew replied with relief. "About time," he then added ushering them in to his room. "Sire, I am honored to be bless your union, but a second witness is required."

"A goblin must be about some where?" asked Sarah with a hint of agitation.

"The second witness must be an adult fae," explained Jareth. He released Sarah and raising his hand drew a crystal from the air. His servant Jewels' face appeared. "Jewels, come to the physician's quarters at once."

Bartholomew seemed to consider something. "Neither one of you has been drinking this evening, have you?" he asked them. "I only ask because it is after all two o'clock in the morning- an odd time to desire a union if ever there was one."

Jareth was at Sarah's side again, holding onto her. "When one knows what one wants,' he said.

She smiled. "One should secure it. It is past time Bartholomew," she then added. There was a rush of cloves and cinnamon in the air as Jareth gazed at her. His comforting, familiar scent made her ache.

Jewels was as bleary-eyed as Bartholomew had been. A quick explanation from his majesty though ceased all questions. Then Bartholomew had them hold hands creating a never ending x-formation. "Elements of the above and below- bear witness with us here," he said in a commanding tone. "These two under no duress come to ask a blessing on their desired union. Who are you, son of the ancients that comes before these witnesses? Tell me what you seek."

"I am Jareth Choblyn, a son of the Underground and King of the Goblins. I seek passage to my beloved."

"And who are you, daughter of man that comes before these witnesses? Tell me what you seek." He hastened to add, "More or less repeat Jareth's statement."

Sarah licked her lips. "I am Sarah Williams, daughter of my mother Linda Williams and Champion of the Labyrinth. I too seek passage to my beloved."

Laying a hand over their clasped ones Bartholomew spoke, "Be found with no deceit or prior commitments; be you both sworn to each other." They felt their hands grow warm with each word spoken. "We bear witness. Love and be loved," he concluded removing his hand.

At that point Jareth kissed her nearly forgetting that they were not alone. She was his. Hang any and all complications that might await them- he had her and was going to hold on to her. Bartholomew clearing his throat reminded him that there were others present. Pulling back he smiled like a school boy.

They both attempted to express their gratitude to Bartholomew and Jewels while also trying to make a hurried exit. Out in the hall they paused, holding hands and gazing at each other. Sarah was unsure how to progress- she had just married the Goblin King! Her libido was demanding attention and small portion of her mind was demanding sleep, and yet all she could do was stand there, smiling awkwardly at him. Jareth drew close and kissed her hand. "Your chambers or mine?" he asked.

He heard her breath quicken. "I should think that the queen should go to the king's chambers."

The images he saw of Sarah laying in his bed, her body exposed to him, his sheets wrapped lazily around her legs and waist were untainted by any other conflicting images. "I should think that very fitting," he said before he kissed her. He had her turned and against the door where he pinned her body. She smelt like lavender and felt as soft as flower petals. When he slapped his hand twice against the door he felt her tense. "Easy my precious one."

"But why are you knocking on Bartholomew's door again?"

Her voice was airy and light. He pulled back to smile at her mischievously. "We are no longer any where near the physician's quarters." Leaning around her he opened the door to reveal his bed room. "Your majesty," he then said sweeping his hand inside the room.

"Ah!" she exclaimed softly. "You keep using your magic so late at night and you won't have any in reserve for more productive services." She flashed him a smile as she walked in.

"More productive services?" he repeated amused. The door closed. "Believe you me, my precious one," he had her about the waist. "I won't need magic to perform any services." She leaned against him. His hands moved over her in a gentle caress. "I am perfectly fit to see to any services or needs." Her scent filled his lungs as he found her neck under her hair. "The challenge will be invigorating."

She turned to look at him. Her eyes were emerald embers. Taking his hands she said, "Then meet your challenge Jareth." She stepped backwards to the bed and sat on the edge.

Exhausting the last few precious hours of night with Sarah were perhaps the happiest moments he had experienced in these last five years, Jareth fancied to him self. He made love with her until both of their bodies cried out for a rest. The first time was a rush; a need to be one that out weighed any other sensory desire. The feeling of being with her, in her was the equivalent of surviving a track through a massive desert, only to be greeted by an oasis of spring time and water. She moaned with an intensity that would have frightened him coming from any other woman, but this was Sarah, his Sarah, and he met her need with equality.

The following were moments of climatic pleasure. They allowed for exploring touches, tracing curves and contours with curiosity. Seeing her smile or feeling his breath catch only encouraged them.

They lay next to each other, the sheets thrown over their bodies for warmth, breathing quietly. He found him self fascinated by the curve of her hip which he traced lazily with his hand. Sarah looked up at him. "We are going to need a fair amount of caffeine to make it through the day," she remarked with a laugh. "Though it was well worth it."

Jareth made an approving noise. "We'll have to try moving our exertions to the day time hours. For the present though, I find a good hot bath and vigorous scrub get one going after a late night."

"Vigorous scrub?" she asked raising an eye brow. Jareth sat up and stretched. She traced the line of his back with her eyes. "Sounds very tempting." He was off the bed and moving towards the wash room. She watched him go, his naked form high lighted in the grey light that lit the room.

"Sarah, you're blushing," he called from the door way. She rolled her eyes and let out a giddy laugh knowing it was true. "Stop gawking and come join me." Having drawn the bath he climbed in and had her sit in front with her back facing him.

"Jareth about today-," she began to say.

"Hush!" he interrupted reaching for the bath sponge. "The day is still outside those doors. In here it is only about us. Now about that vigorous scrub I mentioned earlier." Suddenly there were bubbles in the tub. Sarah shook her head amused as he began to run the soap filled sponge over her skin.


	19. Chapter 19

_(Greetings my darlings- this story is not dead! Here it is alive and walking. As some of you know, in the last nine months I have moved and given birth to a beautiful baby boy. Being a mother is an all consuming job. But my writing was never ignored. Here is chapter 19 and 20 is close on its heals, running with the need for vindication and justice. Be patient, my precious, and you shall see who is served their entrails as the main course.)_

**Nineteen**

**1  
**

Jareth caressed her head, running his fingers though her dark hair. He felt her body respond leaning towards him. The line of her body against his would be a sensation that would forever thrill him. Knowing that she awoke his passion made his toes curl; knowing that he did the same to her stroked more than his ego.

Hiding his satisfied smirk in a kiss, he eased her away from the door.

They both were going to have to survive the day with very little sleep. With the amount of endorphins carousing through his veins system though Jareth felt as if he could stay awake a whole week just so long as she kissed him. Every few hours. At least. This high would serve him well enough.

With a reluctant groan Sarah began to pull away. "If we get caught-," she began to chide.

He shushed her. "Who would dare to enter the king's chambers so early? And without a proper invitation? I would reorder time to relive the last several hours over and over again." He watched her face melt into a delicious smile.

"Still, we must be ready for tonight. If all goes as planned we shall have plenty of reason to celebrate."

"Indeed."

"I must get back to my room before any one wakes up."

He held her against him. "I'll poof you back. Steal a little time."

She suddenly gripped his arms and pushed away. "Oh no you don't," she snapped. "You are tired as it is. I won't have you expending your energies any more." He scowled like a child being denied his favorite candy. "We need to be alert," she reminded him gently.

"You are right. Very well- be off with you then. Oh Sarah," he exclaimed softly catching his as she turned away. "Wear something dark blue this evening."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is my lord begging me to wear his color?" she asked coyly.

"Yes, but wear it under your dress." Sarah slipped out suppressing a giggle.

**2**

King Oberon was very curious as to why the Goblin King so urgently needed his presence and on so short a notice. It was not unlike Jareth to make odd demands or behave fastidiously (obsessively drinking peach wine there for several years). Oberon often wondered at times whether living with goblins simply drove one slightly mad. Still King Jareth had made improvements to the kingdom and was socializing with neighboring royalty. He did like the Goblin King and enjoyed the possibility of the improbable.

Oberon watched as Jareth fidgeted with his cravat, adjusting and readjusting some minute fold or crease. From where he leaned against the door frame Oberon smiled amused. "So you have called me here to what, then, add spice to an otherwise dull party?" he asked dryly.

Jareth let out an agitated sigh and switched his attention to some nearly invisible strand of hair that wasn't behaving. "If I wanted spice," he said. "I would have invited the Fieries from the Forbidden Forest, and not some droll court leader." Looking over his shoulder, he flashed a mischievous smile at the High King.

"The goblin influence rears its slimy head," remarked Oberon. "I am here Jareth, but I can disappear rather quickly if you do not explain what is happening tonight."

"Do you know Count Wimberly?"

"Yes, he's your neighbor. There's rumor in court that you intend to wed their daughter. Of course," he paused straightening and examining his finger nails. "There's also rumor that you've taken on something of a consort." That statement gave Jareth pause. He turned to face the High King and received a mockingly mischievous smile in return. "Lord Edenberge sends his respects," Oberon added.

Jareth snorted. "Believe me my lord when I say that marrying Leslie is the furthest thing from my mind. I have little desire to continue any sort of association with the Wimberly's."

"And has it to do with this newly acquired distraction?"

Jareth smiled. He couldn't help him self. Sarah was more than a distraction, she was the Goblin Queen. 'All will be revealed,' he reminded himself. 'in due time. One problem at a time this evening.' Explaining his sudden marriage to a recently turned young woman from the Above was not a conversation Jareth could handle at the moment. "It has everything to do with her my lord," he said speaking in generals. "What do you know of human slave trade?"

Oberon knitted his brow and grew serious. "It is an act that I openly discourage. While I concur that the humans can be very tiresome I do not like my kin behaving so debase with any race. Why?" Jareth gave him a rather poignant look. Oberon took several steps towards him. "You suspect the Wimberly's of human slave trafficking?"

"Not suspect, I know. Count Wimberly is a debase fae with little respect for female humans, a fact I plan on proving tonight."

"At the ball?"

"In front of every slimy goblin and courtier if I must."

Oberon regarded Jareth weighing the severity of the situation. "You had better tell me everything you know and suspect."

Jareth started from the day he found Sarah Williams, dragged in by her hair before the court by Lord Edenberge. Oberon had been at court that day, he recalled the disheveled girl. "How I know her is another story for another time," Jareth added when the High King grew curious. "The point is I took her in, healed her wounds, and began to unravel the mystery of her circumstance." He went into great detail about the lingering smells that were not only deeply imprinted on Sarah's subconscious, but on the fluids left on her as well. "We assumed the man responsible for all of her injuries was Lord Edenberge. The night she confronted him though she learned that he had acquired her from another fae, a count."

"And how do you know that the count in question is Wimberly?"

"Sarah had not heard his voice since the incident until very recently. It brought back everything, every detail, every emotion. That, and my own physician matched his smell to fluid recovered from Sarah's rape kit."

"As a matter of honor she has every right to confront him," Oberon responded. "Challenge him to the death even. Why am I here? Why do you need her to be in good standing with me?" When Jareth failed to answer, Oberon continued, "It is all ready apparent that this Sarah is important to you, whether by morbid curiosity or some far greater emotion. She means something to you. She is your consort?"

Jareth sighed sharply. "More or less."

Oberon leaned back and braced his chin against his hand. Things were never boring in the Goblin City. "Is there more?"

Jareth nodded. "As you know I had been entertaining advances towards Leslie Wimberly. I know her: she's a sweet young woman. It has come to my attention that the count beats his daughter. Leslie is an innocent, as was Sarah Williams prior to her attack."

"And to a man who cares for wished away children, hurting an innocent is most deplorable."

"Most," Jareth reiterated.

"We fae are hardly the most judicial of races. We are the most ruthless when we feel slighted. This is personal Jareth, isn't it?"

All Jareth could do was nod. Count Wimberly had touched his life in far too intimate a fashion.

Oberon nodded his head with resolution. If the goblin way of life had any influence on King Jareth it no doubt would be prevalent in his choice of women. Oberon felt his own curiosity rise. "You have two women who can testify to Count Wimberly's debased actions: I will sanction any judgments they deem worthy."


	20. Chapter 20

**Twenty**

**1**

Sarah stifled a yawn.

In her chamber she was waiting for the signal from Dink to descend to the ball. Absently she fingered a piece of fringe that ran around the bodice of her dress. Jareth had employed all of his seamstress' best skills to ensure her a costume that would not only turn heads, but slit throats as well. She was clothed in a crimson bodice with gold detailing and a trailing ebony skirt. Her only accessory aside from her mask was her silver dagger, secured in its hiding place.

Turning towards her mirror she examined her self one last time. The actress in her felt like macabre embodied. The dark rich fabrics of her dress were stark against her pale skin and dark brown hair. She ran her hands down the length of the bodice, feeling for any hint that the dagger could be detected. Finding everything well hidden she locked eyes with herself in the mirror: she was as calm and determined as she had been the night she had gone after Lord Edenberge. "The heart judges its self," she murmured out loud before turning towards the door.

In the hall Sarah suddenly felt the need to check on Leslie. It was a near over whelming sensation. Part of her chalked it up some innate mothering instinct, another to an over whelming sense of paranoia, but she had to see if Leslie was all right. Everyone's stress levels had been ridiculously high as of late. Their chambers weren't that far apart, Sarah felt she could be back in plenty of time to meet with Dink. When the ground swayed under her feet in that all too familiar motion, she nearly began to run for Leslie's chamber.

At her door Sarah knocked once and called out. Without waiting for a reply she entered: Leslie was gone. Her costume and mask were absent as well. Perhaps she had all ready gone down to the ball? The Wimberly's after all were more or less the guests of honor. A light burned on the small writing desk where a letter lay. 'Really Sarah,' she chastised her self. 'You're too high strung.' But the motion under her feet- the Labyrinth had wanted her in here.

Her eyes wandered back to the desk. Curious she picked up the letter. "Well," she said out loud. "Explains why Leslie broke things off with Jareth: she has a sweet heart." The letter was written hastily urging Leslie to run away, leave during the hustle of the ball. Paranoia made its way back into Sarah's thoughts. She raised the letter to sniff it.

**2**

On a raised dais in the middle of the room Jareth watched as his guests arrived and were announced. Courtiers and royals from all walks of life were arriving. Some had all ready begun to dance, others lingered near the tables that lined the walls waiting for refreshment to be served. When Countess Wimberly was announced he saw her stifle a sneer at the goblin acting as footman. Jareth smiled with satisfaction. The piece de resistance would be the arrival of Sarah's former companions. He actually harbored hope that Ludo would some how knock her over with his lumbering body. And when her husband arrived that Sir Dydimus might accidently gouge him in the knee caps.

King Oberon stood at Jareth's side, quietly observing. He inclined his head to a couple as they paid their respects. "Where is Sarah?" he murmured in low tones to the Goblin King. "And Count Wimberly?"

Jareth kept his eyes schooled on the surrounding company. "Sarah should be arriving soon." He smiled again. The dress he had designed for her he had yet to see on her person- she would be delicious! A deadly vixen! 'All mine,' he thought. The rumbling that passed under his feet he interpreted as the Labyrinth correcting his ownership. 'Ours,' he conceded in his thoughts, as he hid a yawn behind his hand.

**3**

Dink was most agitated when The Lady did not acknowledge him. He had put on his best helmet to greet her, and had even washed his face. She came down the stair case though and walked right past him heading towards the outer door. Lady looked mad.

**4**

She would gut him like a fish in front of Leslie or alone. Let the whole party see her spill his blood. The warmth of the kill spread over her hands and up her arms, causing her fingers to twitch excitedly. Her moment was only steps away.

The night felt heavy, as if some unseen force were trying to tear through the atmosphere. Within moments of her rapid walking Sarah felt her brow began to moisten with sweat. The oppressiveness matched the feeling in her soul. Her vengeance wanted out, to be let loose and vindicated. It clawed at her insides. She sniffed the air: he was close.

The note had given a specific spot to meet, near the pagoda in the main garden. It was the same pagoda where Sarah had learned of her attacker and found Leslie. The Forbidden Forest was near the same spot. Hopefully she could warn Leslie, remove her from the situation. She would do what needed to be done, but in her heart she would rather spare Leslie the sight of her father's death.

**5**

Sir Didymus surveyed the ballroom, searching for his lady. He had arrived promptly at the stroke of eight in his finest attire. With him were Hoggle, openly ogling all of the pretty baubles the lady courtiers wore, and Ludo who smiled at everyone. All three of them were most excited to be formerly reunited with Sarah Williams as well as to join in with the goblins to make certain fae squeamish.

Didymus felt his nose twitch. There was a marked change in the air this evening. It was not food or fragrance though, and it did not seem to radiate from any one person. "Hoggle," he said gaining his friend's attention. "Do you smell that?"

Hoggle inhaled loudly, his nose making an odd vibrating sound. A near by lady snapped her fan in revulsion and moved away. "Yeah. What is it?"

"I am not sure. Make sure that Ludo doesn't sit on anyone; I am going to investigate."

The little fox made for a door that would lead him outside. At the thresh hold he sniffed again: yes, it was definitely coming from outside. His nostrils tingled. His delicate whiskers twitched. What was it? He could all most place the scent; it was familiar to him. Lightning suddenly pealed across the sky revealing heavy, thick clouds looming near. Rain. Rain was coming to the Labyrinth.

"Didymus!"

King Jareth's voice brought the fox out of his moment of joyous meditation. "Rain!" he exclaimed excited. "Rain is coming sire!"

The words seemed lost to Jareth. Instead he asked, "Have you seen Sarah at all this evening?"

"My lady still has not arrived?"

**6**

The clouds were obstructing the moon. Without light Sarah was moving on instincts and smell. The pagoda was only a turn or two away. She stopped briefly breathing deep- his scent was becoming deluded in the gathering humidity. Ahead she saw that Leslie was alone under the pagoda. "Leslie!" she called out to her. Another crack shook the sky.

Leslie started. "Oh Lady Sarah!" she exclaimed. "How did you know where to find me?"

Sarah cast her eyes around the heavy shadows- he could be any where. Curse her tired mind. "Never mind! You must come with me!"

"Come with you? No. Lady Sarah-,"

"I insist!"

"-I am going to leave my father-,"

"-Lesie-,"

"-Meet someone here-,"

"-In danger!"

Their words were lost on each other as they both spoke at the same time. Leslie seemed convinced that her secret lover was arriving to take her away, that safety was moments away. Sarah sensed the danger, felt it scurrying up the nape of her neck like a fiendish spider.

Quite suddenly the aroma of old books and cinnamon filled the air. The scent was so familiar to Sarah that she battled with her mind to remember that the smell was deadly. A man's loud scoff caused both of the women to stop talking. "Father?" questioned Leslie in confusion.

Sarah had her by the arms. She began pushing her towards the far end of the pagoda, down the garden path. "Leslie, go! You must!"

Count Wimberly laughed. "Well, my, my isn't this an interesting surprise? Dear me, has my little Leslie found someone willing to be her guardian?"

Sarah put herself in front of Leslie. "You will not touch her!"

"A woman savior- how quaint." He moved under the pagoda. Sarah got the impression that he was assessing the situation. "Whoever you are, my lady, this does not concern you. Go along back to the Goblin King's soiree."

Sarah stood her ground. Behind her she felt Leslie twitch. "Lady Sarah," she murmured in fright. "What are you doing?"

Sarah watched the man's stance- he could spring forward and try to over power them at any moment. His eyes were tight and every fiber seemed coiled and tense. If he sprang, she would have to draw her blade in a flash. "You will not touch her," she said again defiant.

Lightning light up the sky and in the same moment he darted forward. Sarah felt his hand on her arm- rough and pinching- and smelt his breath as he growled. He was attempting to throw her aside and get to Leslie. His hand tightened. She saw her blade, glowing silver in the dim light, and then the pressure of slicing through skin. Stunned she looked at the blade smeared with a dark matter- she had cut him; she had made her first strike.

Count Wimberly cried out. He held his hand- blood trickled down his fingers. "You nasty creature!" he spat out. "You cut me!"

Yes, she had cut him. Her moment had come and it felt oddly surreal. She smiled as the morbid satisfaction took affect. "Oh, I'll do more than 'cut' you," she said adjusting her grip on the handle. And with that, Sarah raised her arm and lunged at the Count.

He was quick though and held her off. There was a burst of warm air and Sarah felt her body being driven back. Count Wimberly had deflected her with a spell. "Leslie! Go!" she commanded regaining her balance. She took the stance to throw the blade.

The Count shot his hand out forward. "Enough!" he bellowed, and to Sarah's horror she felt the dagger being ripped from her hand. "I don't know who you are," the Count sneered. "But you shall pay for your interference."

With an animalistic cry, Sarah dug her nails into his face, slashed his skin, and hurriedly retreated from the pagoda. Magic. Magic was the one thing she could not compete with. She hadn't any powers of her own. Distance between the two of them would give her time to assess and think of a new plan of attack. Her dagger was gone (her precious dagger!), and before her was the living Labyrinth. 'Help me!' She sent her thoughts out. A rumbling guided her around a curve. She knew that Count Wimberly was only yards behind her. She rounded two more turns before she heard his voice again.

"Come out, come out girly!" he taunted. "If you want to play rough, you must play fair!"

She could see in her mind how his face must look slashed, red, and swollen; his eyes alive with hatred. He looked maniacal. She could see his eyes both here and again in that study, looming over her as he raped her. The Labyrinth guided her around another bend. Sarah ran into the Forbidden Forest.

**7**

Jareth concentrated on his very center, gathering as much of his magic as he could. His tired body strained under the pressure. If he could muster just enough he would appear as close to Sarah as was possible. It had become apparent that something was wrong. Dink had explained how Sarah had walked outside, and Count Wimberly's and Leslie's absence could no longer be explained. Jareth had ordered Didymus to block all of the exits. King Oberon had cordially detained a rather dejected looking Countess Wimberly. With considerable effort Jareth managed to vanish.

Suuuck-POP!

The Forbidden Forest opened up before him. Two smells immediately became apparent: Sarah and Count Wimberly had come this way. 'No,' he thought concerned. 'She had her dagger!' Sarah was supposed to have been avenged by her own hand, the blood of her tormentor was supposed to be on her skin. Growing increasingly agitated Jareth sent his mind out to the Labyrinth. "Where are they?" he asked out loud. "Protect her! Protect what is ours!" The ground began to roll. Trees swayed. The sky bore down. The two storms swelled in unison.

Sarah was the first one he saw. She was dashing from tree to tree, her gorgeous dress now hanging from her in a wrinkled mess. Then he saw the Count, arms raised, his magic gathering. The Count was going to strike her down! "No!" Jareth cried out. He felt the ground beneath his feet heave in a tremendous wave. Several loud cracks of thunder threatened to burst his ear drums. From the trees orange forms began dropping. The Firies were awake! And they were attacking Count Wimberly! Their woops and hollers were filled with rage.

Jareth ran forward as the very earth began to vibrate. As he reached Sarah's side the rumbling grew into shaking- the very earth was breaking apart. Jareth could have sworn that a disembodied voice was screaming, "Die! Die! Die!" over and over again. It sounded as if the Labyrinth, its living essence, was tearing a hole in its self. Firies were crawling all over the body of Count Wimberly- his muffled cries were of pain. Were they going to tear him limb from limb?

He and Sarah stumbled to the nearest tree and wrapped their arms around the trunk holding on as the earth began to break apart. The connection they shared with the Labyrinth tensed and was pulled taunt. They cried out joining their voices with the Firies. The Labyrinth opened the ground and swallowed Count Wimberly.


	21. Chapter 21

_So much has happen since this story began and now at the time of conclusion. Yes, I do feel that it is finished. But I shall leave it open a bit longer in case something inspires me, whispers in my ear during the night. Thank you all, my precious ones, for your patience._

* * *

**Twenty-One**

The rain fell.

This thought pervaded all others in Jareth's mind. Let the Labyrinth swallow his whole kingdom- the rain was falling. Water trickled down his face and soaked his clothes. The smell of moist earth, of life its self filled his senses. Rain.

He felt Sarah flex her hold and he shifted and opened his eyes. Through the falling rain the damage did not seem so vast at first. Then he realized that the tree they were holding onto was elevated and tipping precariously to one side. Sarah called his name softly. "Here," he said. Stepping cautiously he moved around the tree to meet her. The ground was slick, the rain falling faster than it could be soaked up. Sarah's clothes and hair hung limply. In her flight she had suffered a long scratch, blood and water ran down her shoulder. At the sight of it Jareth sneered.

"It is not as bad as it looks," she assured him as he gingerly touched it. Then her arms were around him. She smelt like the rain. She moved to look at him. "Are you all right?"

"Fine. Just a little…" He paused and searched within himself. "Soul tender."

She nodded in understanding.

Together they worked their way towards the place where the Labyrinth had opened up. A brief flash of orange proved that the Firies had survived and were taking to the trees again. A narrow chasm ran raggedly along the ground. A wind hallowed through its depths. They stared into it feeling all at once grief and justice.

"It is done," said Jareth.

"No," said Sarah. He looked and realized she was crying. "Not yet."

The sound of running and heavy breathing broke through the rain and made Jareth turn around. Leslie, her light hair falling out of its intricate braids was approaching. Some where a Fiery whooped and lighting cracked. Jareth saw her face, so full of questions yet all knowing. "Leslie," he began stepping in front of her.

She lunged at him. "No! Your stupid Labyrinth- it didn't have to! Father!"

"It had to," reasoned Jareth.

"Let me see," she then demanded. She hit his chest. "Let see. Where did he go?"

Jareth feared she would throw herself into the chasm. "No Leslie. You mustn't!" He forced her into an embrace.

"Father, oh my father!" She shook as she cried and finally fell limp against him. Sarah turned and wrapped her arms around her from behind. "I know; I know all about it. My father- so stupid! I know all about what he did. So stupid, stupid!"

Jareth felt his heart swell and ache. There was too much angst here. He had all most lost his Sarah, his precious one. Leslie's father had been executed by his Labyrinth. The Blessed Moon- King Oberon was still detaining his guests. There was still work to be done. Would Leslie be able to move past her grief, to stand as a witness against her father? He sought Sarah's face, half hidden by Leslie's hair. Sarah would be ready. Sarah would be her pillar of strength.

"Leslie," came Sarah's voice, soft and gentle. "Leslie you are free now. He can never hurt you again. You are free." Leslie raised her head and turned to look at her. "Freedom," repeated Sarah fervently. "You and I are free."

"Leslie, I must give account of what has happened here to our sovereign King Oberon," said Jareth. "I need to know if you can bear witness."

Leslie's eyes had not left Sarah's. The two women were communicating, their souls reaching out to the other. A shiver ran over her. "Lady Sarah, you know too don't you?" she asked.

"Your father…" She paused, licked her lips. "He did more than hit me. You and I both are vindicated this night. The land protected us. The Labyrinth protected us! Can you stand and confess, justify what the Labyrinth did?"

Leslie swallowed. "I can if you can."

"Take my hand."

Jareth's magic reserves were near nothing. Transporting them back to the ballroom was out of the question. With Leslie between them, clasping their hands for strength, they began to walk back. Waterlogged and weary each step was an effort. From his peripheral Jareth caught glimpses of orange and yellow. He saw Sarah cast him a wary look. "They're still restless," he said. There was a scrape and rustling as one of the creatures broke free and landed in front of them. His glowing red eyes regarded them. He shook his feathers and furs.

"Little lady came back," he said nodding at Sarah. "It's against the rules what we did."

Jareth spoke up, "They tore and threw another's… body parts."

"Aye," said the Fiery. The glow of his eyes intensified. "But so did the count man. He broke lots of rules. We would break them again for the little lady. We come with now." He joined their trio.

There was anxious commotion inside the ballroom. King Oberon had used his magic to seal the place; no one had been able to leave. He stood on the covered veranda with Sir Didymus at his side. The rain had not eased. "The Seven Graces preserve my soul," he exclaimed as they approached. "What happened?"

"First where is Countess Wimberly," said Jareth. He huffed as he took the stairs. "This concerns her."

Oberon studied them: emotions were rolling off of every single one of them in huge dark waves. "You want to take this some where a little more private?"

"The bog I do!" cursed Jareth. He felt Leslie twitch next to him. Breathing deep he tried to reign in his anger. "The Wimberly's will be marked this night. Call the room to order. If you please, sire," he added tersely remembering who he was speaking to.

Sir Didymus took Jareth's place next to Leslie and helped guide her inside. Oberon led the way. Inside the air was warm and it helped ease the weariness that had descended upon their shoulders. Over the gasps and questions, King Oberon ordered silence. He reached the raised dais that only a short time before had been used to greet the guests. "Be still!" he ordered the room with a wave his arm. "A crime and a death have happened this night. Be still and listen! Mark my judgment!"

Jareth approached the dais. On the far side he could see the countess, cowering behind her fan. He pointed a finger threateningly. "I accuse the Count and Countess Wimberly of human slave trafficking, abusing innocents and to the Count specifically, forcing a woman!"

Oberon motioned to the Countess. "Approach Countess Wimberly. Where is your husband? And why does your daughter not stand with you?"

Countess Amilia Wimberly had grown pale and her hands visibly shook yet she still managed to hold her head high as she approached. "I have not been with my husband all evening," she said flatly. "As for my daughter, it is good she stands apart from me."

"Do you deny these allegations?" asked Oberon.

Now her lip began to tremble. "No," answered the countess.

The room made noise, shock and disbelief. Jareth glanced back Leslie and Sarah; both showed surprise at the countess' response. He saw Sarah tense. "You knew?" She yelled the question. "And did nothing about it? I'll rip her eyes out! I'll-," Didymus and Jareth moved to intervene. Jareth tried to reason with her, telling her to let King Oberon do his job as High King.

"Am I to be denied a fair trial?" came the countess' voice over the commotion.

"Fair!" yelled Sarah. She found herself struggling against Jareth. Something in her had snapped. All of her weariness had morphed into pure ire. "You want to talk about fair- I have spent the last four weeks in torment because your filthy excuse of a husband had raped me! You heard me right! Rape!"

"Let me explain. Please!"

Oberon ordered the room to be silent again. "Lady Sarah, compose yourself," he said. "You have my utmost sympathy, but a fair trail the countess will receive. We will hear her side." Oberon took a deep breath and turned his attention back to the countess. "Amilia, explain yourself."

The countess dropped her head. When she raised it she could no longer look the High King in the eye. "Tell me was the death tonight my husband's?"

"Yes. Jareth's land, the Labyrinth took it."

"Good. At least as of tonight I know he can never hurt my Leslie again." She looked past Jareth to her daughter. "I cannot deny the accusations because I saw some of them happen. Others, I guessed at. A man depraved enough to hit his own daughter surely had other similar predilections." She began to cry.

Jareth approached her. "I have it on good authority countess that you were not ignorant of your husband's dealings with humans."

"I tell you, I didn't know for certain."

"King Jareth do you have evidence to suggest otherwise?" asked Oberon.

"Lord Edenberge confided in the Lady Sarah that when one wanted a human they sent word to the count via you."

"I tell I was ignorant of the content of those messages. I feared to know for certain! Leslie, forgive me, but I lived in fear!" She made a gesture to reach out to her daughter. Leslie turned away.

"This wound, this chasm is too deep to heal tonight," observed Oberon. "Two women have stepped forward attesting to Count Wimberly's actions. The rape of one. The abuse of another." He took a step forward and addressed the whole room. "Count Alexander Wimberly's execution at the hand of the Labyrinth under rule of King Jareth is justified. Mark my judgment. No vengeance or retribution shall be sought by anyone."

The party was ordered to disperse. In private, King Oberon sent Countess Wimberly home to await his orders for counseling and an aura cleansing. Her plead of ignorance would be thoroughly scrutinized. He wanted Leslie to return home as well and receive similar treatments. Jareth interceded on her behalf. "We here are neutral territory for her; a safe haven. With the Lady Sarah's help I am sure she will make a recovery."

Oberon nodded. He watched the two women for a moment. "Stop calling her Lady Sarah, Jareth."

"Sire? What for?"

"Because she makes a magnificent queen." The two men regarded each other. Jareth, despite the turmoil of the evening, found himself smiling. "You will be key in the rest of her healing," added Oberon. "Love and be loved Jareth. And let me know when you decide to have an official coronation."

Jareth offered rooms for Sarah's old companions that night. Tomorrow they could have a proper reunion. Tomorrow they could all begin new lives with nothing wanted and nothing wasted.


End file.
